They sat in the front row. A vast relief filled Spurlock's heart as he decided to tell this man everything which related to Ruth. What had actually beaten him was not to have known if someone had picked up his trail. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. I see now that you make a game with me indeed. ’ ‘Then you will die at the hands of the canaille. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson.
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