The Mem-Sahib Speaks
mentioned it. Most certainly there could be nothing in his appearance to suggest the service.
"I have reason to dislike one Chinaman," returned Gray. "So I was obliged to take precautions," he blundered, and then strove to remedy his mistake. "If I had known you were the owner of the yurt, I would have come straight here."
Too late, he realized that he had made his blunder worse. The girl's brows went up, also her nose—just a trifle.
"Why should you be so cautious, Mr. Gray?" The civilian title was accented firmly. Yet a minute ago she had addressed him as "captain." "Surely"—this was plainly ironical—"the Chinese are harmless?"
Gray thought grimly of Liangchowfu.
"Sometimes," he said, "they are—inquisitive." The girl glanced at him. Surely she did not take this as a personal dig? Gray did not understand women. "Miss"—he hesitated—"Memsahib"—she stared—"you see, I've gone beyond the limits mentioned in my passport." He was unwilling, placed in such circumstances, to tell the whole truth of his mission and rank. So he compromised. Which proved to be a mistake. "And the governor fellow of Liangchowfu is anxious to head me off."
"Really? Perhaps the official," and she glanced fleetingly at Mirai Khan, "thinks you do not keep
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