” He could feel a small bump where he knew a cavity of smooth flesh should reside. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. Taber did not leave all his money in the office. ‘Your niece, ma’am. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal.
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