The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. Actually, he had come all this distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. I don’t mind telling you chaps that except on the stage I haven’t set eyes on her this side of the water. I am your servitor. I made her my unwilling confederate. ‘I see well that I am dealing with you. The months that followed September spiraled downward. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget.
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