And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. And he did not lack courage. Sheppard. ’ Gerald laughed.
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