"'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. It seems to me very silly. At least I can give you a glimmer. What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. You’re tired, of course. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. " "That's impossible," replied Jack.
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