As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. ’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. " The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. That for the men lay near the Lodge, with which it was connected by a dark passage. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness.
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