The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. Sheppard.
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