For five days The Tigress chugged her way across the burnished South China, grumpily, as if she resented this meddling with her destiny. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. By this time, the procession had reached the west end of the wall of St. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. This woman, contrary to his custom, he answered. But this time she wanted nothing for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy—success. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows.
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