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. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him.
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