I’ve never had these crying fits before. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. Shotbolt, the head turnkey of Clerkenwell Prison, and Mr. 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. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. She was asked to meet him after his game Saturday afternoon. ’ She tossed her head.
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