From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. "Are you a poltroon, after all?" "That's it! I ought to have died that night!" "Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by gratitude. This was rather too much to expect; for we all know, if Mr. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. CHAPTER XXVII.
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