" 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. ‘Now see here, missie. “Do you mind very much?” He shook his head. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings.
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