ABSTRACT
AFTER a four-days’ railway journey through dust and heat I reached Peking late in the afternoon. It was long ago that I last visited the old imperial city, but everything was unchanged. The grinning khaki-clad porters in front of the Water Gate took careful charge of my luggage; Wu came running to offer his lacquered rickshaw with as much certainty of acceptance as if he was meeting me by appointment, and the stout doorkeeper outside the Wagon Lits Hotel even remembered my Danish name.
