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‘It is imbecile that you are. I let him take me to the English Embassy, and we went through some sort of a ceremony. The air was pungent and leaden. We all get deceived sometimes. I'm a stickler about clothes and clean chins. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. . " He summoned another "boy" and rumbled some Cantonese. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. The gentlemen are so particular now, and a good thing too, I say. On the contrary, it was impossible to look at him without perceiving that his resolution was unshaken.
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