"You have," rejoined Jonathan, laying a forcible grasp on his shoulder. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. The delay was only momentary. ToC London, at the period of this history, boasted only a single bridge.
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