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"The Luck of Thirteen Wanderings and Flight through Montenegro and Serbia"

It resembles the Chinese habit of
alluding to a "loathsome" wife and a "disgusting" daughter.
After lunch we visited our own hotel and found mine hostess waiting for
us with her short arms akimbo. She wanted the "beautiful large bedroom"
to which we had moved in the morning, finding it the same size as the
one below, but rather lighter. Its former occupant had arrived, and we
were to go back to the dungeon.
"That is not good," said Jo, and we flatly refused to go downstairs.
"If we leave this room we go altogether."
She again patted us and begged us to consider the matter closed. We
could stick to the room.
Certainly that dog fancier was right.
There was a very old monastery which we had passed as we rode into
Ipek.
Although we are more interested in the people of the present than in
ruins of the past, these old Serbian monuments leave so strange a memory
of a civilization suddenly cut off at its zenith that they have an
emotional appeal far apart from that of archaeology.


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