Without whisky," went on McClintock, "your irritability is beyond tolerance. Don't be frightened of her. "I never told anybody," she went on. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton.
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