Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. ” “I will buy books and a lay figure,” he declared, “to practise upon. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine.
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