Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. The Hospital St. Moving room to room it was. They took their places at a distant table. ’ ‘Precisely,’ Gerald repeated. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. "Yes; but what is good isn't always proper. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. “Mr. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. The theme was a masquerade. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily.
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