"I'm tired of the life I'm leading. . Wood. ” “Except,” said Constance, surveying her work with her head on one side, “to keep the matches from the litter. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. Perhaps Ramage was the more astonished. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. I couldn’t sit down for a week!” “Oh, how terrible for you.
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