As we drew up alongside, I looked through the window.
Stires and Ching Po were within, and from the sibilant noise that
stirred the peaceful air, I judged that Ching Po was talking. Their
backs were turned to the outer world. I pushed open the door, and Follet
and I entered.
For the first time I found myself greeted with open hostility by my
fellow countryman. "What the devil are you doing here?" I was annoyed.
The way they all dragged me in and then cursed me for being there! The
Chinaman stood with his hands folded in his wicked sleeves, his eyes on
the ground. In the semi-gloom of Stires's warehouse, his face looked
like a mouldy orange. He was yellower even than his race
permitted--outside and in.
"If I can't be of any service to you or Miss Eva, I should be only too
glad to go home," I retorted.
"What about her?" asked Stires truculently. He advanced two steps
towards me.
"I'm not looking for trouble--" It seemed to me just then that I hated
Naapu as I had never hated any place in the world. "She's having
hysterics up at Madame Mauer's. I fancy that's why we're here. Your
yellow friend there seems to have been responsible for the hysterics.
This other gentleman and I"--I waved a hand at Follet, who stood, spent
and silent, beside me--"resented it.
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