She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. ‘You have a knack of saying just the wrong thing. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. ‘In fact you admitted only that you had no more weapons. What is the supreme idea in the heart and mind of youth? To win fame and fortune: and particularly to enjoy them. She came to her one day and pulled on her apron.
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