The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. “If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of humiliation. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over.
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