As he proceeded, other painful reminiscences were aroused. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. “Take off your tunic. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. ’ She fairly pushed at Gerald, who grinned and gave in, moving back to the still open door.
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