I can’t help it. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. 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. “I have made over seven hundred pounds in the last week,” he said. She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. Probably a sick man's whim. . She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty.
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