She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. ’ ‘We!’ said Hilary witheringly, and went off as Gerald laughed and turned back to the lady. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. Her head rose.
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