’ Trodger had started towards the stairs, signing to his men to get behind the lady. 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. The shouts of indignation—the frightful yells now raised baffle description. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. Still, it was true about men. I think too much about myself.
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