A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. Visible underneath his collar were some metal tags. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. “It’s odd—I have no doubt in my mind that what we are doing is wrong,” he said.
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