gutenberg. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. Enough's as good as a feast of the dainties you provide.
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