The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. “Round midnight, I think.
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