Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. 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. ‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major. " "How long will you be here?" "To-morrow night.
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