Pain sliced into Gerald’s hand and his sword arm jerked. “Just do it. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. Hearing the spring touched, he dashed through on the instant, and struck down the person who presented himself, with his bludgeon. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. “You’re splendid!” said Teddy, with his hair wild in the wind. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged.
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