She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. You've saved my life. ” Mr. ” She laughed. The latch came with a weak click. but then I made the mistake of testing it indoors. But, no. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. Last night there had been no time.
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