Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. “She finds lying up so much very irksome. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. ” She leaned against the back wall of the place, sinking slowly. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. The day is already half over. ‘Let her go. Canton is all China at night. ’ ‘Precisely,’ Gerald repeated. He, a Chinaman, troubling himself over Occidental ideas! With his hands in his sleeves, he proceeded on his way. He came into the club next day, and of course we went for him thick.
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