She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. The rogue took everything we had. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead.
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