‘She’s terrified. I don’t think of you as a kid. 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. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. "Ay. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity. People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation.
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