For five days The Tigress chugged her way across the burnished South China, grumpily, as if she resented this meddling with her destiny. "You forget that you promised me a kiss the last time you were here. But I’d have done it without, though it weren’t my place. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. I felt—I felt living in a masked world.
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