" He patted her hand. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. The blood will rest on your head. 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. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. You are more in my power than I am in yours. ’ ‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad.
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