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. “You will sign the contract?” “I shall sign the contract. I would not think so of you, Marthe. "Impossible!" exclaimed the widow, wildly. Find them at Remenham House—if you can. White caught her eye, and smiled benignly down the table.
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