They cannot imagine the discomforts involved, and they see only mystery in your fight to recover your lost heritage. She met him by the dugout after the game. “Yes, I know. My name is Annabel, not Anna. 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 found himself growing hoarse yelling over the music, but it also situated him to lean towards her to put his hand on her ear to aid her hearing. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. “The real reason why I am out of place here,” she said, “is because I like men.
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