“She doesn’t know. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. And then she would find work. Sheppard, somewhat alarmed by this preamble.
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