He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. ’ ‘I don’t know,’ confessed Gerald. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. I was forced to lay on a bed of nails for three days. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. Reaction set in and she leapt at him, beating at his chest with her fists.
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