In the midst of this light stood a young woman. “She means to go. "In Canton. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. If he senses fear in the touch of your hand, he'll give you trouble. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. With all your cunning, we're more than a match for you. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. We always go out to dinner on holidays. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. This is your moment.
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