‘I just don’t understand you, Gerald. ‘Ah, the tragedy. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. ’ Fresh suspicion kindled in his breast. Just beyond there would be her heart's desire. Spurling. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. "My father!" she whispered. His destination was the New Mint.
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