’ Joan sniffed. It was not possible. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out.
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