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” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. Her faithful servant struggled, with her assistance, to rise. Unless he can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never behold him again in this world. I am yours for the making over. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. He admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the pleasures of Hong-Kong so close. He wriggled underneath her heaving body, pinned like an insect. He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. “Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to the Universities?” “Oh!” he said, profoundly.
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