His voice now had lost its ironies. ***** In the daytime the streets of the ancient city of Canton are yet filled with the original confusion—human beings in quest of food. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me. Sir Rowland, who had continued absorbed in thought, with his eyes fixed upon the sloop, as she made her way slowly down the river, disembarked more leisurely.
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