She stared. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. "He is all alone. I went off to round up his wife. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. And life is much the same, whether taken in battle, on the couch, or by the road-side. That is why you came here, isn’t it?’ ‘Alors, now we know who is the spy, Monsieur Gérard. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's.
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