62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. This time you cannot. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. She is a year or so older than I am, and she is, well, of a very serene and proud and dignified temperament. This is a mere boy. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. ” “Not in the least,” Anna answered calmly. She glanced at him. He was not a sailor.
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