" 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. "What is this!" cried Sir Rowland. They WERE weird. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on.
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