’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. There is everywhere at night in China the original fear of darkness. In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. " Ruth spread out the ruffled skirt, sundrily torn and soiled. I do not blame you for the act. ” She stopped, and then suggested: “I wonder—I should love—if it was anything I said. I think you will find that his story will be believed, whatever I say; and in any case, if he is going to stay on here, I shall have to go away. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. He had forgiven everybody. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. . ” There was a long silence.
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