” “It’s dreadful for you to be here,” he said, indicating the yellow presence of the first fog of the year without, “but your aunt told me something of what had happened. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. ” Jane was taken aback by Lucy’s weird candor. 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.
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