“I can’t. He made Hong-Kong at dusk: wet, hungry, and a bit groggy for the want of sleep; but he was in no wise discouraged. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. \" \"Not this Saturday, sweetie. ” “Well, fuck you too. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. Now it occurred to him that to show her the sealed letter would be a better way. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally.
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