They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and everything was delicious. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. People sat in unusual pews, and a wide margin of hassocky emptiness intervened between the ceremony and the walls. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly.
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