You’re a little late, you must remember, and we are punctual people here. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. Fascination. Winny, this is the last night I shall pass beneath your father's roof.
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