He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. CHAPTER XVI. And here are these places, full of contagion! “Of course, this is the real texture of life, this is what we refined secure people forget. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. 5.
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