They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. They don’t count, and I don’t care. ’ ‘Dear me. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. " "Here's a pocket-book full of notes, and a heavy bag of gold," said Blueskin, examining the articles on the floor.
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