His room was last at the end of one winding corner. 6 Chiu Ping le, Chiu Yam Street. John. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. But he reckoned without his host. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. “We parted— that night the best of friends.
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