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. “So what is John up to today?” Lucy asked with a weary smile. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. ‘Assuredly it is locked up. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light.
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