“Sir John is a man of the world,” her aunt answered coldly. A boy can forget his amatory troubles playing baseball; but a girl can't find any particular distraction in doing fancy work. He found himself thinking up all the psychology which he had ever read. 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. He was mad. “I don’t want children, Lucy. And Mr. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice.
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