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"Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. “You shall go,” he declared.
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