The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns joss-sticks. ” Ennison escaped. She evolved a dim image of herself cooped up in a house under the benevolent shadow of Mr. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances.
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