Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. He got off on it. His face darkened. Most of you Americans pattern all Chinese upon those who fill a little corner in New York. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared.
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