The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. Stanley,’ I said. He never felt any need to explain himself. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone.
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