“Anna! What tragedy has happened, little sister? No lights, no supper, no coffee —and, above all, no Mr. The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns joss-sticks. “Who decorated the school like this?” She asked, peering up at the multicolored banners that hung everywhere. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning.
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