” He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time. " The Wastrel laughed. I wouldn't touch the stuff for all the pearls in India. He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. "Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know.
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