” He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light. and Mrs. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. One day she awoke and he was cavorting about underneath the covers. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ‘So now you will please to go away and leave me to my business. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt. She hesitated. ‘That’s what comes of disarming yourself. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture.
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