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From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. “Mr. ’ ‘Glad you’re so sanguine,’ interrupted Captain Roding. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. "Suppose he does. It ought never to have begun. " "That's better. It was time to leave America. After all, life had still its pulsations. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last.
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