The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. Then she reverted to the trousers. She forced herself not to think of John. ’ ‘Then they are soldiers. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. " "I liked that, too," she replied; "but it wasn't that I had in mind.
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