"Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know. He thanked God for this talent of his. Jonathan nodded assent. I have suffered all this. Then Sheila noticed the stains. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said.
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