" "You hear that," whispered Jack. " "But that's not all, your honour," continued Charcam; "Mrs. 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. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. There was a photo of her that looked exactly like you.
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