"Untie his arms, and take off that handkerchief. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture. She could not say a word, much less move. Her father read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for managing while the cook had a holiday. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells.
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