“There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. Whence had she come: whither was she bound? A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had become separated. He was heartily thankful for it. She felt very cool as he opened the door for her, as if she should have chic sunglasses and stiletto heels on, dark red lipstick. It slipped out—as did that “she”. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor.
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