A post-chaise seen in the road first alarmed us. "To-night, your ladyship?" ventured an elderly domestic. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. The note-passer lagged behind with her. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. . “I couldn’t help it. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him.
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