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. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. Wood's boat bearing up towards him. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. . We’ll make short work of them.
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