One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. Ann Veronica decided she would have to go on with Capes another day, and, looking up, discovered him sitting on a stool with his hands in his pockets and his head a little on one side, regarding her with a thoughtful expression. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. We're lost.
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