She continued to fan herself. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. 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. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. " "A queer case;" and the doctor passed on. Had Gosse taken it as he escaped? What could she do? Gosse now knew that she was the daughter of Mary Remenham. I’ve accustomed myself to think of you— as if you were like every other girl who works at the schools—as something quite outside these possibilities.
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