I speak no harm of her. ” He seemed bored. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil.
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