‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Then he threw the letter at me. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. He kissed her lightly on the lips. Drink the toast, Jack. Her lover surely did not 223 understand the implications of what he had asked for and his lust blinded him to the realities of existence even now. " As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of the little object of his benevolent professions, and, in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his slumbers. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house.
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