The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. I'll call it my wedding gift. 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. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. “You are coming my way,” Courtlaw answered.
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