“I am getting plain,” she said, with a little shudder. 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. Lucy’s cool. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise.
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