I am a little afraid. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. This extraordinary child had opened up an old channel through which it was no longer safe to cruise. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. I was curious about that. Sit down, I command you. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life.
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