To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. "We must keep still. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. May I know your name?’ The lady eyed him. There was a photo of her that looked exactly like you. Ruth could tell the doctor; she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder.
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