"How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. He admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the pleasures of Hong-Kong so close. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. "I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes.
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