“I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. 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. ’ ‘How do you know?’ Lucilla repeated, almost as sceptical as her intended spouse. You have to marry me.
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