No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. " "Oh, no!" Ruth protested. 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. 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. “You too were deceived. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill.
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