The ragged edge. She forced herself not to think of John. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. No other white people within twenty miles. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. Of course, he had no idea who I was. ” He stalked around the room. It’s awkward, but we’ll get round it somehow. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat.
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