But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. Now for it, Thames! Make as great a row as you can to divert his attention. I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money. 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. He must know she’ll be at a convent. But ——” A look checked him. She dare not risk it. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. The lad hesitated.
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