CHAPTER IV The tourists returned to the Sha-mien at four o'clock. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. “Every one. In a sense I don’t care. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. You may have to carry them further and longer than you think. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. But go on. I don't have a phone in my room. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern.
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