‘There is no one who could have told him this. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. 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 air was pungent and leaden. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens.
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