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It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. It drives one mad at times. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. He took his social pleasures once a year in Hong-Kong, after Easter. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. Ought she to walk into some of these places and tell them what she could do? She hesitated at the window of a shipping-office in Cockspur Street and at the Army and Navy Stores, but decided that perhaps there would be some special and customary hour, and that it would be better for her to find this out before she made her attempt.
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