Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. “To my chagrin, I have. I always told you some accident would happen. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. ’ ‘What?’ ‘Neat little toy. There ends my duty. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil.
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