For the first time it occurred to Ah Cum that the young man might not be quite conscious of his surroundings, that he might be moving in that comatose state which is the aftermath of a long debauch. His glasses were gone. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. “I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. At noon the doctor himself arrived. “That is very nice of you,” she said. But … he must want to live in order that the inclination to repeat this incident may not recur. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly. Also he is ugly.
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