My arm's nearly well again. ” Michelle continued on as if uninterrupted. “You!” she exclaimed. 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. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato.
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