"So you shall, Sir," replied Austin, who at this moment recollected, with some uneasiness, the applications at the lodge-door during the night. They say it hasn't been opened for eight years—but I won't be eight years in getting out of it. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. “Where am I?” he muttered. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. . I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. It was a mad half-hour.
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