"Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. Mrs. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. “In two days,” she reflected, “Mrs. My death, probably.
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