If Mr. ” She pulled a small blue box out of the pocket of her hoodie. I did not reckon upon—him. 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. Thames, look the door. There would be no moon. She almost submitted to this ending of her adventure. Lucy's grin faded.
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