She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. “I don’t believe there is one. We’ll run away together, we’ll elope. Our ideal had fallen. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom. You don’t want to miss the sport. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill. CHAPTER IV The tourists returned to the Sha-mien at four o'clock. Ennison stood by her side. He looked the boy over with interest.
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