At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. I didn't mean it. . 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 can't spare you at present. “That’s a weird name. “Don’t think so,” Drummond answered. What she said is true. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. She laughed a little bitterly. ’ ‘Are we to infer that he had a choice?’ enquired Gerald.
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