They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. ” “Any one could see that the girls were ladies,” Ennison murmured. The lady whose husband had been Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. "You'll never return. " "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. ‘I did not think so. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both.
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