” She shifted again. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. "But she is saying something to me! What is it?" The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted. "I would sacrifice all my fortune—all my hopes —to liberate him. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street.
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