“I shall never marry,” said Ann Veronica, resolutely; “I’m not the sort. "But there's nothing more to see in Canton. It's gin—a liquor you used to like. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. He perceived clearly enough, that the chase was moving quickly; and he was also aware, from the increased rapidity with which the oars were urged, that every exertion was made on board to get out of the reach of her pursuers. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse.
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