He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. Treasure caves to explore! All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what this strange young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had not already said. “We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr. “I doubted my luck, at least. “I want to know who you are. He was damned if he knew what to do.
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