" "He had better bring half-a-dozen," said the Amazon, taking up a cloth-yard wand, and quietly seating herself; "one won't do. They vanished through the doorway. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. "Tom! Hey, Tom!" The Chinese cook thrust his head into the dining room. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me.
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