” He looked at Lucy. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. His tongue was hot. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. Do you want to kill us both? Stop the thing. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir.
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