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. All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. Everything. There are boats on the lake and shady depths and wildernesses of pine-wood. It is very bad. . \" Cathy poured her a glass. She would have to move on to a more lawless country soon, Mexico, Columbia, then cross the sea where she could eventually return to the chaos of Eastern Europe and the Russias. " The spinster had no retort to offer such directness.
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