Lucia had never been so happy, so content. In any event, I would not have let her escape me so easily. “I have found out at last what a useless person I am —from a utilitarian point of view. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. I haven’t, anyhow.
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