“Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. Partly, from your confessor; partly, from other sources. Tell me that you are not sorry to see me again. ’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath.
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