In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. Of you, I mean. ” “I may come a little way, then?” he begged. I know London better than you, and I have had to earn my own living. He had. She remained on guard. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. Then perhaps I shall send for him if he has not forgotten. ” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared.
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