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. "No, I tell you," rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his way out of the crowd. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced.
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