She was making it up. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. Clean water. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir.
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