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. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square. "What's this here kinchen in for?" asked Terence, as he and Quilt strode along, with Thames between them.
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