" "The very point I aim at," said Darrell as he passed through the outlet. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. Lucy acted the part of savoring the end of the meal, but it was difficult. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. There he stands.
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