At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. You won’t want to be late the first evening, and it’s ten minutes past seven now. I have to see if you carry any more weapons.
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