From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. ’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. I need scarcely ask whether you've executed your appointed task, my dear? You're never behindhand. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house.
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