She would just have to show up and hope for the best. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. But don't let my name frighten you. . Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. It was a pity he didn't break his neck, for he was hanged within the year. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. He would pull this young fellow back; but later he knew that he would have to fight the boy's lack of will to live.
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