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Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. ***** In the daytime the streets of the ancient city of Canton are yet filled with the original confusion—human beings in quest of food.

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