I didn’t ought to have sent for him. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. But they were old enough to start remembering you as mother, and we cannot have that. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. Birthdays just ain’t the same once you get old kiddo. Though it’s very kind of you. Wild's figure. For a time Spurlock did not move. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting.
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