The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. "Certain. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. You cannot do a murder and expect that you will not be punished. ” Anna stepped to the foot of the bed. She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take it. " And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain.
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