She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. He would have to return to Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot on the Praya. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too.
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