"Yes, I was thinking.
Has anything happened?"
"I can't tell you over the telephone."
There was another silence before he spoke again.
"Well, look here, I can manage to see you for ten minutes at one if that'll do.
You'd better go to Ku-Chou's and I'll come along as soon as I can."
"The curio shop?" she asked in dismay.
"Well, we can't meet in the lounge at the Hong Kong Hotel very well," he answered.
She noticed a trace of irritation in his voice.
"Very well. I'll go to Ku-Chou's."
XX
SHE got out of her rickshaw in the Victoria Road and walked up the steep, narrow lane till she came to the shop.
She lingered outside a moment as though her attention were attracted by the bric-a-brac* which was displayed.
But a boy who was standing there on the watch for customers, recognizing her at once, gave her a broad smile of connivance.
He said something in Chinese to some one within and the master, a little, fat-faced man in a black gown, came out and greeted her.
She walked in quickly.
"Mr. Townsend no come yet.
You go top-side, yes?"
She went to the back of the shop and walked up the rickety, dark stairs.
The Chinese followed her and unlocked the door that led into the bedroom.
It was stuffy and there was an acrid smell of opium.
She sat down on a sandalwood chest.
In a moment she heard a heavy step on the creaking stairs.
Townsend came in and shut the door behind him.
His face bore a sullen look, as he saw her it vanished, and he smiled in that charming way of his.
He took her quickly in his arms and kissed her lips.
"Now what's the trouble?"
"It makes me feel better just to see you," she smiled.
He sat down on the bed and lit a cigarette.
"You look rather washed out this morning."
"I don't wonder," she answered. "I don't think I closed my eyes all night."
He gave her a look.
He was smiling still, but his smile was a little set and unnatural.
She thought there was a shade of anxiety in his eyes.
"He knows," she said.
There was an instant's pause before he answered.
"What did he say?"
"He hasn't said anything."
"What!" He looked at her sharply. "What makes you think he knows?"
"Everything.
His look.
The way he talked at dinner."
"Was he disagreeable?"
"No, on the contrary, he was scrupulously polite.
For the first time since we married he didn't kiss me good night."
She dropped her eyes. She was not sure if Charlie understood.
As a rule Walter took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers and would not let them go.
His whole body grew tender and passionate with his kiss.
"Why do you imagine he didn't say anything?"
"I don't know."