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. I’ll do it. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. They litter up the room.
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