It’s an emerald. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. Thames Street was wholly impassable. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. Well, I am Nigel Ennison’s sister!” “Oh!” Anna said. But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night.
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