No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. Wood, severely, "and go to bed. " And, once more enveloping himself in darkness, he pursued his course. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. In Singapore that had been her only dissipation: a dozen pairs of silk stockings.
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