"Well, what can you expect, guzzling poison like that? Are you returning with us to Hong-Kong in the morning?" "No. She crooked her finger. ‘Wait for me. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. “I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master. “I dare not,” she answered. "But it won't do. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured.
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