She twisted her head away from him and stared at the scabrous papered wall beside the bed.

Sleeping at Pai-ta, which stands on a sort of little terrace in the hillside overlooking the Salween, we descended the next morning by an exceedingly steep path to what is often known as the P’an-chih-hua ferry. It should be more correctly called Chuan-shui, as the real P’an-chih-hua is a mile or two lower down and is now disused as a ferry.

[…] these companies could enjoy support required to set up shop for the long term.

“The right hon. gentleman” squinked his eyes until his monocle dented cheek and forehead bones.