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 called the police on them anonymously. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. The pursuit of pleasure, selfgratification, is an original instinct with her. “Nothing. . I'll test him out later; see if there is any craving. He dug about in his mind for a term to fit her, and he came upon the word new.
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