‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way.
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