Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. To-morrow, when she returned to Hong-Kong, she would purchase a simple but modern dress. “There is something which I must say to you. And taking the keys, he departed on the errand.
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