It was his purpose to complete four or five stories before he sent any away. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. It wasn’t. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. To settle things, you know. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton.
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