As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. Then he got up and left her. “He’s got almost to like it. But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night.
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