But, alas! Ah Cum shrugged philosophically. His commissions this
day would not fill his metal pipe with one wad of tobacco. The
spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and
the young man had purchased nothing. That she had not bought one
piece of linen subtly established in Ah Cum's mind the fact that
she had no home, that the instinct was not there, or she would have
made some purchase against the future.

Between his lectures--and primarily he was an itinerant lecturer--he
manoeuvred in vain to acquire some facts regarding the girl, who she
was, whence she had come; but always she countered with: "What is
that?" Guileless she might be; simple, never.

It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock.
Here they would be having lunch. Ah Cum said that it was customary
to give the chair boys small money for rice. The four tourists
contributed varied sums: the spinsters ten cents each, the girl a
shilling, the young man a Mexican dollar. The lunches were
individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered
from the Victoria.

"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters--Prudence Jedson.

"Yes," answered the girl.

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what?"--serenely.