He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. " The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. Mr. I had that coming. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other.
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