‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. . To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. " "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs.
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