She was supposed to be lifeless; but she survived the accident, though she never regained her strength. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. ‘Lucky I have you to keep me from Bedlam, then. 1. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. ToC Sir Rowland, meantime, paced his chamber with a quick and agitated step. I have always been lonely. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote. Give up your lonely hours of work here.
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