He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions. It added to the picturesqueness of the Sha-mien night to observe these gaily coloured lanterns dancing hither and yon like June fireflies in a meadow. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. ‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat.
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