They are the only happy women in the Orient. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same.
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