But that brought Mrs. Melusine turned and turned, unable to imagine just where the secret door could be. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. He did not even reply to her for several minutes. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad.
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