I have bought you a post as stewardess."
Mrs. Sin tossed her head. "And Juan?"
"What can they prove against your Juan if you are missing?"
Mrs. Sin nodded towards the bed.
With slow and shuffling steps Sin Sin Wa approached. He continued to
smile, but his glittering eye held even less of mirth than usual.
Tucking his hands into his sleeves, he stood and looked down--at Rita
Irvin.
Her face had acquired a waxen quality, but some of her delicate
coloring still lingered, lending her a ghastly and mask-like aspect.
Her nostrils and lips were blanched, however, and possessed a
curiously pinched appearance. It was impossible to detect the fact
that she breathed, and her long lashes lay motionless upon her cheeks.
Sin Sin Wa studied her silently for some time, then:
"Yes," he murmured, "she is beautiful. But women are like adder's
eggs. He is a fool who warms them in his bosom." He turned his slow
regard upon Mrs. Sin. "You have stained your hair to look even as
hers. It was discreet, my wife. But one is beautiful and many-shadowed
like a copper vase, and the other is like a winter sunset on the
poppy-fields. You remind me of the angry red policeman, and I
tremble."
"Tremble as much as you like," said Mrs.
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