"His lordship desires me to say—ough! ough!" Fresh groans and hisses. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ” She replied. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous.
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