She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. I knew it. . . The lines about his mouth gradually softened. He would never recognize me now. Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned.
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