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 China. So you must pardon me if I point out to you that in China we pay the memory of our ancestors the deepest respect."

"Oh!" she said unhappily, "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry. I wouldn't offend you for the world."

"Then will you kindly send your servant away?" Wu put his words in the sequence of a question, but there was neither interrogation nor request in his voice: it was cold, imperative and final.

The Englishwoman hesitated miserably. She was thoroughly alarmed now. "But," she begged (for it was supplication—open, not implied), "Mr Wu, I—I hope that I shall myself be going soon."

Wu took no notice of what she said, and, for the time no further notice of Florence Gregory. He clapped his hands sharply, and at their sound Ah Sing stood in the doorway.

"Analiaotang," the mandarin said quiety. The frightened Englishwoman understood no Chinese. But Wu's tone—quiet as it was—said unmistakably, "Take her away."

Ah Sing moved quietly on Ah Wong, and she, looking pathetically at her mistress, backed as slowly as she dared through the open door, from the room. But at the threshold she paused, glanced for an instant up at the high window, looked her mistress squarely in the eyes, bowed her head and was gone.

And Mrs. Gregory had returned her amah's signal, look for look.

It was two women against one man; and one of those women was Chinese.