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. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night. ” Miss Stanley turned to her. I don’t know what has come over me.
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