" "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction.
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