There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. "In Canton. “I think I can tell you something which may be very good news for you presently. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. He seemed to be thinking hard. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. "These writer chaps are queer birds. When you send for me I shall come back.
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