But … he must want to live in order that the inclination to repeat this incident may not recur. Nicholas is dead. She nuzzled his chest and he breathed deeply of the scent of her Finesse conditioner. ‘Wait a minute, though. 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. If you talk of your faults, I shall talk of your splendors.
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