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“Oh, that. “I never dreamt!” she said. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be lost. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. I think that a boarding-house is the very best place for a woman who wants to develop her sense of humour. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up. CHAPTER IV The tourists returned to the Sha-mien at four o'clock.

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