“Well?” she said, sitting down again. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. He admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the pleasures of Hong-Kong so close. I must take you to the Suffrage people, and the Tolstoyans, and the Fabians. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. ‘En tout cas, it is not reasonable that I could be at all in love with him. Die, indeed! We’re going to do work; we’re going to unfold about each other; we’re going to have children. The man himself was not a pleasant object. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly.
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