“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. CHAPTER XXVII. His face turned a dark crimson. He can come round there.
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