It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. “I might have muddled for a time. Without a word, without a sign, Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. But he's witty and amusing, and when reasonably drunk he can play the piano like a Paderewski. 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.
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