“You cannot say that you did not expect me,” he answered. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless. I feel at moments as though I could bolt for it. 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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