Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. Pig and brute! Yet calling him hard names would not help her. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture.
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