"Where am I to take it to?" asked Sheppard. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. But native! She must watch out. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. "Never heard of a sing-song girl; never heard of a geisha! Flower of the Lotus: the sing-song girl called her that.
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