Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. ” He crossed himself and grinned. “You will not object,” he said, glancing towards her, “to accepting a deposit. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. ‘Not care? For this he must be an Englishman tout à fait sympathique, and— and I know only. Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself.
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