It’s your first evening, and early impressions do count for so much. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. He admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the pleasures of Hong-Kong so close. And, while the turnkey was busy with the keys, she whispered to the black, "Follow him, Caliban. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. Very likely by this time the whole truth is known. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil.
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