This hand consigned him to destruction, but another was stretched forth to save him. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. ‘You do not say, “I am a gentleman born. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now.
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