To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea. ‘Gerald Alderley, I don’t know what you deserve. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. A little love from him would be enough. He hung vaguely for a moment as she passed. Only I wish—I wish to-day I was a thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful.
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