He looked no longer at his wife. 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. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. My trouble is with your sister. Turning, she flew for the nearest door. Fixing a ferocious and exulting look upon Jack Sheppard, he exclaimed.
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