We all love you dearly. 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. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. “Have you told anybody else?” Lucy asked. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey Hill or not. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured.
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