Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. " "What villain?" cried Hogarth. “‘A SONG OF LADIES AND MY LADY “‘Saintly white and a lily is Mary, Margaret’s violets, sweet and shy; Green and dewy is Nellie-bud fairy, Forget-me-nots live in Gwendolen’s eye. The Well Hole. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly.
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