CHAPTER XX. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Not about girls that I date. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. They sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of the street. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. And if I don’t, I go mad.
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