Charlton had given to him as she bade him goodbye and which he had intended showing with pride to the mother.
It was on the day that the baby died that Pau Lin first saw the little picture. It had fallen out of her husband's coat pocket when he lifted the tiny form in his arms and declared it lifeless. Even in that first moment of loss Pau Lin, stooping to pick up the portrait, had shrunk back in horror, crying: "She would cast a spell! She would cast a spell!"
She set her heel upon the face of the picture and destroyed it beyond restoration.
"You know not what you say and do," sternly rebuked Sankwei. He would have added more, but the mystery of the dead child's look forbade him.
"The loss of a son is as the loss of a limb," said he to his childless partner, as under the red glare of the lanterns they sat discussing the sad event.
"But you are not without consolation," returned Leung Tsao. "Your firstborn grows in strength and beauty."
"True," assented Wou Sankwei, his heavy thoughts becoming lighter.
And Pau Lin, in her curtained balcony overhead, drew closer her child and passionately cried:
