_The power of the old gods was certainly nothing for Mark and Edith--a modern, twentieth-century couple--to worry about. After all--everybody dies!_ Twenty years had left no trace inside Sam Kee's little shop on Mott Street. There were the same dusty jars of ginseng root and tigers' whiskers, the same little bronze Buddahs, the same gim-cracks mixed with fine jade. Edith Williams gave a little murmur of pleasure as the door shut behind them.…
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