Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted.
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