The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. "Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. He rolled on top of her, pinning her with his arms and forming a tented cage.
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