He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. 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. It isn’t illusions—for us. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. He pulled on her shoulder, bringing her mouth to his in a kiss. I have yet another. . " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo.
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