People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. "Heard of your escapes. But you will stay here?" "I dare not.
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