“But it’s a long business. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn. The girl in the forward chair raised herself a little, the better to see the gorgeous blue palanquin of the dimly visible bride. ’ ‘If he has a bullet inside of him,’ said the sergeant stolidly, ‘there ain’t no one can take it out better nor me. She was surprised at his modesty. She leaned a little towards him. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. There is the election——” He laughed derisively. And he unsheathed his sword.
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