She pointed across the road. Some Chinaman might take it into his head to shout: "Death to the foreign devils!" And out of that wall yonder would boil battle and murder and sudden death. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind. The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square. ” He smiled bitterly as he handed her from the cab.
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