“Will you help me?” he asked. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying. "The poor young man!" she said. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. All the rest is humbug and delicacy. Every one else does. From the beginning.
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