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" He shook his head. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. I had two offers of marriage from men I liked very much indeed, but it never occurred to me to listen to either of them. Recovering himself quickly his instinct of self-defence was quicker than his recollection of Anna’s presence. The Return. ’ Colour suffused the man’s face.
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