"I am as God made me. S. Perhaps my wife has already prepared you for what I wish to say. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle.
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