They avoid
the r, like the English nobleman.
N N. gasped for breath. He leaned heavily against the Chinaman.
--Then you have seen her, Ching Long?
--Yes. All lity. She cum. Top side of house.
The docile barbarian pointed up the stairs, and chuckled.
--She here--impossible! Ah, Heaven! do I dream?
--Yes. All lity,--top side of house. Good by, John.
This is the familiar parting epithet of the Mongolian. It is
equivalent to our au revoir.
N N. gazed with a stupefied air on the departing servant.
He placed his hand on his throbbing heart. She here,--alone
beneath this roof. O Heavens, what happiness!
But how? Torn from her home. Ruthlessly dragged, perhaps, from
her evening devotions, by the hands of a relentless barbarian.
Could she forgive him?
He dashed frantically up the stairs. He opened the door. She was
standing beside his couch with averted face.
A strange giddiness overtook him. He sank upon his knees at the
threshold.
--Pardon, pardon. My angel, can you forgive me?
A terrible nausea now seemed added to the fearful giddiness. His
utterance grew thick and sluggish.
--Speak, speak, enchantress. Forgiveness is all I ask.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156