"The end is the most beautiful in English literature. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. "To Newgate," cried Jonathan, putting his head out of the window. The coolies proceeded at a swinging, mincing trot, which gave to the suspended seat a dancing action similar to that of a suddenly agitated hangingspring of a birdcage. It had been cut down before life was extinct, but a ball from one of the soldiers had pierced his heart. Canton at night is as much China as the border town of Lan-Chow-fu.
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