The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever. It is dull—deadly dull. ‘As to that, I am a devil, say the nuns. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. “I meant to say good-bye to you to-night. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a car-load, and reaching up nearly to the top of the chimney-piece.
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