F. 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. —'They have,' says he. "I'll admit that. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room. Unobserved, she knelt and kissed the threshold: for she knew what kisses were now. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious.
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