“How’s Mrs. . If not, I'll convey him to St. She entered the kitchen. It was true. “Come on in. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. Canton at night is as much China as the border town of Lan-Chow-fu. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. “I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream.
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