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There's my thumb upon it. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that. Immediately behind this individual, came a pale, poverty-stricken woman, whose forlorn aspect contrasted strongly with his plump and comfortable physiognomy. " "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood.
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