It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. "We have had a sad loss, my dear Winifred," he began,—"for I must use the privilege of an old friend, and address you by that familiar name,—we have had a sad loss in the death of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present. This threat terrified Ann Veronica so much that she declared with sobs and vehemence that she would never come home again, and for a time both talked at once and very wildly. ’ Roding blinked. "I might return the question. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass.
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