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Canton at night is as much China as the border town of Lan-Chow-fu. I thought it would be magnificent to have a great house in Paris, and more money than any other woman. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed. Do you indeed remember? The smell of decay and cheap methylated spirit!. “How would you prevent it?” she asked.
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