” “Mr. "It's very well you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with this confounded clothes'-bag. 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. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. "But what does he mean by calling you a wanton? —you, my wife?" Enschede's hand slipped from his daughter's shoulder.
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