Figg," said Jack. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape. You certainly had to hand it to these Chinks. We leave England to-night. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. Still no sound. Man's fate is in his own hands.
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