It was a brief solitude, however. 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. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. “I suppose things have changed?” she said. ” “I’m afraid it can’t.
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