The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. His room was last at the end of one winding corner. “Go on!” she commanded. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. The benches running round the room, though fastened to the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched off; while the table, which was similarly secured to the boards, was upset, and its contents—bottles, jugs, glasses, and bowls were broken and scattered about in all directions. ‘I do not steal,’ declared the lady hotly. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate.
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