No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. The door of cabin 2 was open. Gracious, there’s the gong. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. It's only a gentleman come to offer you his hand. “Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said.
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