He turned me so that he could have a companion in his loneliness. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. One or the other. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes.
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