" 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. "I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Did the other girls thank you?” “Not really.
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