“Yes. " The Chinaman paused. “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. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head. He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake.
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