She had to have him, her body was going crazy for the want of sex. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. "What! you still hesitate! Will that rouse you, coward?" And she gave him a smart rap on the head. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. No man knew whence she had come nor why. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. On the contrary, I am altogether satisfied. “Now you must go,” she said firmly. "It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. He admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the pleasures of Hong-Kong so close.
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