From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia.
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