KAI LUNG'S GOLDEN HOURS
"Alas!" exclaimed Wang Ho, unable to retain the usual colour of his appearance, "the attention of a devoted servant is somewhat like Tohen-hi Yang's spiked throne—it torments those whom it supports. However, the word has been spoken—let the sentence be filled in."
"The full roundness of your illustrious outline is as a display of coloured lights to gladden my commonplace vision," replied Lin submissively. "Admittedly of late, however, an element of dampness has interfered with the brilliance of the display."
"Speak clearly and regardless of polite evasion," commanded Wang Ho. "My internal organs have for some time suspected that hostile influences were at work. For how long have you noticed this, as it may be expressed, falling off?"
"My mind is as refined crystal before your compelling glance," admitted Lin. "Ever since it has been your custom to wear the funeral robe fashioned by Shen Heng has your noble shadow suffered erosion."
This answer, converging as it did upon the doubts that had already assailed the merchant's satisfaction, convinced him of Cheng Lin's discrimination, while it increased his own suspicion. He had for some little time noticed that after wearing the robe he invariably suffered pangs that could only be attributed to the influence of malign and obscure Beings. It is true that the occasions of his wearing the robe were elaborate and many-coursed feasts, when he and his guests had partaken lavishly of birds' nests, sharks' fins, sea snails and other viands of a rich and glutinous nature. But if he could not both wear the funeral robe and partake unstintingly of well-spiced food, the
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