“Life—things—I don’t think her prospects now—Hopeful outlook. There's the grand laced coat he wore at his trial, which I intend for my wedding-dress. At least I imagine so, if what Madame Valade claims is true. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. She cursed herself for a fool.
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