on a drawing in a Chinese lottery."

Eleanor showed no inclination to go on with the game.

"Have another shoe--one shoe, Charlie, for the little princess!"
continued Mark Heath. This one, displayed amid the cone-sticks and New
Years nuts of a sweetmeat stand, was bright blue. Mark hung it on
Eleanor's shoulder; then, as a kind of afterthought, he bought a
crimson tassel for Kate.

The procession was past, was breaking up. The women, in knots of three
or four, were scattering to the night's festivities. Mark, as guide,
let business go as he led them on his grand tour of Chinatown. They
stopped to survey sidewalk altars of rice paper and jade, where
priests tapped their little gongs and sang all night the glory of the
Good Lady; they visited the prayer store, emporium for red candles,
"devil-go-ways," punks, votive tassels, and all other Chinese devices
to win favor of the gods and surcease from demons; they explored the
cavernous underground dwellings beneath the Jackson Street Theatre;
they climbed a narrow, reeking passage to marvel at the revel of color
and riot of strange scent which was the big joss house. Bertram's
spirits were rising by this time; he expressed them by certain
cub-like gambols which showed both his failure to appreciate the
beauty in all this strangeness and his old-time Californian contempt
for the Chinese as a people. Once he tweaked a cue in passing and
laughed in the face of the insulted Chinaman; and once he made
pretence of stealing nuts from a sweetmeat stall.

Wherever Mark found a new design in toy shoes, he bought one for
Eleanor, until she wore a string of them, like a necklace, across her
bodice. Yet had the illumination gone a little out of her; she replied
with diminishing vivacity to Mark's advances as he played the birthday
game.

When they mounted the joss house stairs she lagged behind; and Bertram
lagged with her.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "I never saw you so bright and chipper
as we were awhile ago, and now--say, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. Oh, Mr. Heath--" she raised her voice, "are the actors
allowed in the joss house--and if not will you have it fixed for me?"

After they had presented their votive punks to the great high god,
Kate announced that she was footweary.

"Can't we find a place to sit down?" she asked. Mark took her up.

"That's the signal for tea at the Man Far Low restaurant. Ever been
there? Tea store below, fantan next floor, restaurant t