’ The old man simply stared at her. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. “Yes, he made them all. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. “I was watching you at Morningside Park, dear,” said Miss Miniver. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards.
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