He was introduced to Brendon, and a chair was brought by an attentive waiter. It was a purse. "Let me go," cried Winifred. ‘Nevertheless, he will neither help me, nor will I seek his help. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. “I feared we might have a fog. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. Sir Rowland is one of us," he added, winking at his companions, "and so was his brother-in-law, Sir Cecil Trafford. Those awful chairs!" After dinner the spinsters proceeded to inscribe their accustomed quota of postcards, and Ruth was left to herself. It added to the picturesqueness of the Sha-mien night to observe these gaily coloured lanterns dancing hither and yon like June fireflies in a meadow.
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