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. "Coming!" cried Blueskin, who was still lingering with Rachel. Nor was this impression removed as he stole a glance at Mrs. “How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice.
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