What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. Her lips were dry and cracked. After the sights he would have to twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked. "I am Owen Wood, at your service. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. ” Brendon laughed softly.
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