CHAPTER XXXII. "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right. Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. It is dull—deadly dull. 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.
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