You have never known what it is to want food, raiment, shelter. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable.
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