"Yale!" Spurlock's gaze shifted to the dead hills beyond the window; when it returned to the Chinaman there was astonishment instead of interest: as if Ah Cum had been a phantom a moment since and was now actually a human being. The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination. ‘I understand you have not been in England very long,’ he said in English, noting that Madame raised her fan and lowered her gaze demurely. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her.
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