Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. “I wrote it for you. Perhaps I'd better open it now. You seem to want this chap out of Canton. If that's true, she's not long for this world. Never in this world! Let the hotel people take care of him; it's their affair. Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died.
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