The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Barring that the Valade fellow had sneaked back. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so. Never bought a shirt in my life, Mr. Mesdames Thierry and Poussaint appeared delighted to meet Gerald, and he was obliged to do the pretty to their daughters too.
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