‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. 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. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear.
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