‘Silence,’ hissed a voice in French. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. She foraged about in her mind for some satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling drone the Chinese called a language. I was at work at it yesterday and the day before. A deadly sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round. ‘And how do you propose to get in?’ ‘Scullery window. . ‘You have no need to be afraid of us. Then the hotel manager struck his palms together sharply, and two Chinese "boys" came pattering in from the dining room. Oaths exploded like shells from a battery in full fire, accompanied by threats of direst vengeance against the individuals who had maltreated them. .
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