But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. Everything was very neat; it had evidently been straightened up and kept for her. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. 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. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. " "It shall be at the door in ten minutes.
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