"Here's a door," remarked Ireton, when he got to that nearest the leads, "which I could have sworn would have resisted anything. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. She laid her hand upon his arm. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and old scenes have returned to me, and I have fancied myself happy,—as happy as I am now. She could not see clearly. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke.
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