The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. "Your voice seems familiar to me—and—but I'm getting a little deaf—and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used to do, especially by this light. We'll get together this afternoon; and you can pretend that I am your father. ’ The gentleness in his voice nearly overset her. The sight of the thief-taker increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree.
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