Jonathan cast a hasty glance around, to see that all was properly arranged for his purpose; placed a chair with its back to the door; disposed the lights on the table so as to throw the entrance of the room more into shadow; and then flung himself into a seat to await Sir Rowland's arrival. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. Nine years ago, I was honest—was happy.
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