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" "My God!" cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelligence, "I have killed her. 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. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. This was his humiliation as well as hers. ’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. It was Blueskin.
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