Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. “I want my life to be beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. “Don’t worry, Julian. Or shall I ask Colonel Anson for a few hints?” “For Heaven’s sake no,” she declared. How long he continued thus he scarcely knew; but just before dawn, he managed to regain his legs, and, crawling up a bank, perceived he was within a quarter of a mile of Tottenham.
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