“Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. Even now I do not understand. You’ll have to go back to Remenham House. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve found her!’ ‘Ah, Gérard,’ uttered the girl in a gratified tone as Major Alderley walked through into the light. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. His deduction was correct that the beauty of Ruth Enschede could not remain hidden long even on a forgotten isle. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female.
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