The girl was now openly staring at him, hands tightly clutching her pink handbag. She was a typical, tiny, far eastern female who would get blown away by a strong wind. She reminded me of Ziyi Zhang in Memoirs of a Geisha, though she was not as pretty. So let us call her Ziyi from now on.
Jayasankar writes on our prejudices and theirs, and posts a meaningful book excerpt to go with
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