” “I wasn’t jesting,” said Capes, abruptly. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. She crushed the letter in her hand. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. I may want you. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. . ” They went on for a time without another word. ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. It’s time she knew. Come every day to see you was flourishing. “Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. Cut it as short as you can. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. Capes scored back with an uncompromising vigor that was his way of complimenting her intelligence.
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