Like a weary insomniac, France too greeted the relieving dawn chiefly longing for one thing only – repose.

One hundred is a nice round number.

Some large vessels that do not wish to berth in the Whangpoo anchor in the roadstead off the entrance to the river and discharge into lighters. The greater number of ocean-going vessels, however, proceed up the Whangpoo to Shanghai.

My poverty, but not my will, consents.