Doesn’t matter a bit to me. Canton at night is as much China as the border town of Lan-Chow-fu. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. Instead, her husband was probably wise. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. “I have brought you very nearly to my door. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same.
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