She was the High Priestess. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. Fortescue, with a bow. Can you wonder that I expect you to fulfil yours?” “I am not aware,” she answered, “that I have ever failed in doing so. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. ” He looked at her anxiously, and she met his glance with a dazzling smile of gratitude.
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