“What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. "They tell me over here that the average Chinaman is honest. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. She’s very special. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months.
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