Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. ‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. Jonathan kept his keen eye fixed upon him, as he addressed himself for a moment to the Hollander. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner. She realized that no man had ever placed a mantle of respect upon her as Sebastian did; respect for more than just her pretty face and her now lost ability to bear children.
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