She stuffed her violin in its case and rushed into the hallway towards John, who stood outside of 118 with his arms crossed. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. "But she is saying something to me! What is it?" The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted.
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