We had some bird's-eyes of the cities and parks;
a lot of lovely views of streets, of buildings, outside and in, and
some of those gorgeous gardens, and, most important of all, of
the women themselves.
Nobody will ever believe how they looked. Descriptions
aren't any good when it comes to women, and I never was good
at descriptions anyhow. But it's got to be done somehow; the rest
of the world needs to know about that country.
I haven't said where it was for fear some self-appointed
missionaries, or traders, or land-greedy expansionists, will take it
upon themselves to push in. They will not be wanted, I can tell
them that, and will fare worse than we did if they do find it.
It began this way. There were three of us, classmates and
friends--Terry O. Nicholson (we used to call him the Old Nick,
with good reason), Jeff Margrave, and I, Vandyck Jennings.
We had known each other years and years, and in spite of
our differences we had a good deal in common.
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