To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. I can see the whole thing was just a set-up for sequels, though. Ramage controlled his expression and thought very quickly. She pulled the door so that it was not quite to, and held out her hand, palm up. That would not help her. He fixed it. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune.
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