Kitty stared at him for a moment, she felt a sudden cold in her heart, and then she turned.
“I shall be ready in two minutes.”
“I came just as I was,” he answered. “I was asleep, I just put on a coat and some shoes.”
She did not hear what he said. She dressed by the light of the stars, taking the first things that came to hand; her fingers on a sudden were so clumsy that it seemed to take her an age to find the little clasps that closed her dress. She put round her shoulders the Cantonese shawl she had worn in the evening.
“I haven’t put a hat on. There’s no need, is there?”
“No.”
The boy held the lantern in front of them and they hurried down the steps and out of the compound gate.
“Take care you don’t fall,” said Waddington. “You’d better hang on to my arm.”
The soldiers followed immediately behind them.
“Colonel Yü has sent chairs. They’re waiting on the other side of the river.”
They walked quickly down the hill. Kitty could not bring herself to utter the question that trembled so horribly on her lips. She was mortally afraid of the answer. They came to the bank and there, with a thread of light at the bow, a sampan was waiting for them.
“Is it cholera?” she said then.
“I’m afraid so.”
She gave a little cry and stopped short.
