But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. ” He ruminated for a minute. ” “It’s been coming on since first I came into the laboratory.
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