The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. There was no one else in the doorway. The progress of time was marked in Mr. . Shari smiled and Mike whispered to her. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license.
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