"To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul. Good riddance to bad rubbish. She would have just to keep the fifteen pounds until she could make it twenty. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder. If you want me, you know where to find me. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty.
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