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Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. Sampans with fish and fruit and vegetables swarmed about, while overhead gulls wheeled and swooped and circled. "Jade," said Ah Cum.
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