He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. ” She massaged him. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil.
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