" "As you please, Sir," replied the tapstress, coolly. She had unaccountable gleams of sympathy with and liking for him. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Agreeably he helped her take the shirt off. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. Martin’s crush. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. But about the unknown Englishman she was not so satisfied. “You are quite right, I think.
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