What befell Jack Sheppard in the Turner's House. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. And Mr. 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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