” She raised her eyebrows. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. “Perhaps that is only sleeping,” he said. She knew the truth of it all right. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor.
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