"O'Yam, what brings you here?" he questioned low, for the curious eyes of his fellow fishermen were on her.
"Your mother is dying," she answered.
The young man spake a few words in English to a Greek whose boat lay alongside his. The Greek answered in the same tongue. Then Fou Wang threw down his nets and, with the girl following, walked quickly along the waterfront, past the wharves, the warehouses, and the grogshops, up a zigzag hill and into the heart of Chinatown. Neither spoke until they reached their destination, a dingy three-storied building.
The young man began to ascend the stairs, the girl to follow. Fou Wang looked back and shook his head. The girl paused on the lowest step.
"May I not come?" she pleaded.
"Today is for sorrow," returned Fou Wang. "I would, for a time, forget all that belongs to the joy of life."
The girl threw her sleeve over her head and backed out of the open door.
"What is the matter?" inquired a kind voice, and a woman laid her hand upon her shoulder.
O'Yam's bosom heaved.
"Oh, Liuchi," she cried, "the mother of
