Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. “For my part I can see no difference in any of these French girls who come over here with their demure manner and atrocious songs. The continuity was frequently broken in upon by diversory suppositions. Whenever they stepped from the chairs, he stepped down. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Then she went into the office.
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