Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. 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.
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