’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. Agents were dispersed in all directions—offers the most tempting held out to induce the wavering to join the Chevalier's standard. There was scant social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, little that interested him. Mr. Once before—but that had been different. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland.
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