“If only Sir John were not Sir John I would ask you to come and have some supper. She was pensive and thoughtful. “Yeah, everybody knows him Mom. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. “Your name and address were upon an envelope found in the pocket of an Englishman who was brought here late last night suffering from serious injuries,” he said in a dry official tone. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. .
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