From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. " "There are bad stories, then, just as there are bad people?" "Yes. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. ’ She ended on a note of sheer frustration, clenched fists beating the air. Good riddance. “We’re going to be found out someday. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed.
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