“Never was such an age of transition. There was a loose button on that coat, and I want to sew it on. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. She assumed with a kind of mesmeric force all the propositions that Ann Veronica wanted her to define. There's good stuff in him, if one could find the way to dig it out. His literary instincts began to stir. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. After a series of mental gymnastics—occupying the space of a few seconds—it came to him with a shock that here was a new specimen of the species. 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. Her eyes where glassy and shining. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. His voice had broken. Send for Mr.
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