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III. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you. He admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the pleasures of Hong-Kong so close. The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that.
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