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I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy. "They tell me over here that the average Chinaman is honest.
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