"I understand, Sir," replied Davies, drawing a little aside. "Farewell for ever," said Jack, extending his hand to Mrs. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. "I will," answered the prisoner. He returned the locket without comment. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells.
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