" The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. ” “Alive! In London!” Annabel moaned. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life. " "That child may be the means of saving me," muttered the stranger, as if struck by a new idea: "I shall gain time by the expedient. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. Inhuman as he is, he would not kill her.
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