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’ Gerald controlled a quivering lip. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. I could tell it was Italian, you see. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Photoplay. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. 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. The man’s as obstinate as a mule.
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