‘Wait a minute, though. I saw the blood come as he rolled over. When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. Also she remembered very vividly the smell of orange blossom, and Alice, drooping and spiritless, mumbling responses, facing Doctor Ralph, while the Rev.
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