“We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. “The primitive government was the Matriarchate. Her mind went on generalizing. He would refuse to listen and absolve her unshriven. The Old Mint. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment.
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