She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. Having secured this implement, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clockfaces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime,—that is, back foremost,— broke into a fit of loud and derisive laughter, kicking his heels merrily all the time against the boards. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them.
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