“Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. The situation bothered him considerably. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil.
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