” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. ’ Lucilla let out a peal of laughter. 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. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. "Kingfisher feathers," said Ah Cum.
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