No police officers or lurking storms were anywhere in sight. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. They were bathing in the stream. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. To go to Hoddy, to smother him with kisses and embraces in this hour of triumph! To save herself from committing the act—the thought of which was positive hypnotism—she began the native dance.
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