I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. "No, no, let him alone," interposed Wood. It is we who have become the parasites and toys. Mrs. ” “Not in the least,” she assured him.
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