blinking slowly underneath the brown forehead and the little black
skullcap, and after making salutation with his arms, in curious,
monotonous English with a quaint accent he said:

"Li Choo--Li Choo--he speak. He have to say. He send."

Holding up a piece of paper, he handed it to the Coroner and then stood
blinking and immobile.

A few moments afterwards, the Coroner said: "I have received this note
from Li Choo the Chinaman, sometime employed by the deceased Joel
Mazarine. I will read it to you." Slowly he read:

"I say gloddam. That Orlando he not kill Mazaline. I say gloddam
Mazaline. That Mazaline he Chlistian. He says Chlist his brother.
Chlist not save him when Li Choo's fingers had Mazaline's thloat. That
gloddam Mazaline I kill. That Mazaline kicked me, hit me with whip;
where he kick, I sick all time. I not sleep no more since then. That
Louise, it no good she stay with Mazaline. Confucius speak like this:
'Young woman go to young man; young bird is for green leaves, not dry
branch.' That Louise good woman; that Orlando hell-fellow good. I kill
Mazaline--gloddam, with my hands I kill. You want know all why Li Choo
kill? You want kill Li Choo? You come!"

As the Coroner stopped reading, amid gasps of excitement, the Chinaman
who had brought the notewith brown skin polished like a kettle,
expressionless, save for the twinkling mystery of the brown eyesmade
three motions of obeisance up and down with his hands clasped in the
great sleeves, and then said: