To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. And nearly all these things were fearfully ill-paid. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. His manner was deferential, even eager. Luckily, she was bereft of consciousness, and was thus spared the additional misery of witnessing what afterwards befell him. "How!" exclaimed Sheppard. Even when you've a knave to deal with, let your actions be plain, and above-board. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible.
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