The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. \"Well, I hear that you totally slammed the door in his face after he walked you home! Did you know he lives clear on the other side of town and walked three miles home after you slammed him?\" \"No. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss.
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