Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. 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. "Be still, and you'll receive no injury," returned Jackson. It’s just hard to keep things from her. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves. Why don't you try to find out how the every-day Chinese lives, how he treats his family, what his normal habits are, his hopes, his ambitions? Why don't you come to China as I went to America—with an open mind?" "You're on," said O'Higgins, briskly. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. “Tell him that he is mad.
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