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. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. Fellows are drawing up the necessary papers, but gave Gerald a letter of authorisation for you, mademoiselle, to use in the interim. The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ann Veronica, by H.
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