" "We shall have a durty night on it, to a sartinty, landlord," observed an old oneeyed sailor, who sat smoking his pipe by the fire-side. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. It's big, thanks to you. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. \"But nothing is going to happen. Our men had him fast, held down in a chair. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. It is putting all my dreams out of joint. Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. I can smell you. She even had books by H.
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