’ ‘We are not all of us so empty-headed, Melusine,’ pleaded Miss Froxfield. "You frighten the cull out of his senses. 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. The image did not move. “I have made no progress with my work,” she said slowly, “and the money was gone. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. ” She said dryly. . " There was no danger in admitting this fact. I put your clothes out an hour ago.
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