Some Chinaman might take it into his head to shout: "Death to the foreign devils!" And out of that wall yonder would boil battle and murder and sudden death. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. Every afternoon, from now on, I will teach you a little about life—I mean the worldly points of view you're likely to meet. Brendon was silent.
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