"Are you answered?" said Jonathan, with a grin worthy of a demon. “I suppose I should let go if I had. Framed in one of the square ports of the packet was a face which reminded Ah Cum of a Japanese theatrical mask. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company.
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