She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. 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. I came to beg you instead to do me the honour of becoming my wife. Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. ’ ‘To be sure I do,’ said Gerald swiftly. She heard them diving after her, and noted their starting eyes as they spied the opened panel. Look out, it’s coming. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. " McClintock preferred to put it thus.
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