It vosh plain he vent dat vay. He classified her as he seated himself. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. I’ll drive you home once my buzz goes away. What you would look upon as immorality is here merely an established custom, three thousand years older than Christianity, accepted with no more ado than that which would accompany you should you become a clerk in a shop.
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