From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. ’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. Everything proclaimed the mischievous propensities of the recent occupants of the chamber.
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