” “She doesn’t care for him now?” “Not a bit. Visible underneath his collar were some metal tags. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. They hunted up shady nooks and went to sleep; but promptly at four they would be at the office, ready for barter. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment.
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