. . ” She shook her head gently. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. 1. The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns joss-sticks. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief.
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