It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image. She was powerless to move from her chair. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind. "Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. She held out both her hands.
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