The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her.
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