r. FitzGerald; he was so surprised to see me and says we ought not to
come here--the place is unhealthy and, indeed, Aunt Flora, I wonder you
can stand the reek of Ah Shee's den for so long without feeling
horribly sick."

"Oh, Mr. FitzGerald--the police-officer? Yes, he is right; it is a low
neighbourhood and the air is poisonous, but I've managed to get what I
wanted," and she held up a pocket handkerchief bulging with ivories.
"I won't have to come again for ages and ages."

Meanwhile Ah Shee and son had shuffled off to summon the chauffeur, and
the car now appeared round the corner of the street, looking like some
crouching black monster, with round, fiery eyes. Attended by the two
obsequious Chinamen, Mrs. Krauss and her niece entered the motor and
were speedily borne away. For a considerable time the former did not
open her lips, but lay back in her corner in an attitude of contented
lassitude.

They made their way homewards through the teeming bazaar and
brilliantly illuminated Phayre Street, with its brave show of shops,
offering a kaleidoscopic review of jewellery, glittering silver, cut
glass and brass work, or masses of rich, many-coloured stuffs and
silks, each shop with a special circle of admirers.

It was the hour when offices disgorge their employes, when idlers come
to lounge and stare, and between foot-passengers, trams, taxis and
carts, the thoroughfare was almost impassable. During a block Mrs.
Krauss suddenly roused from her condition of happy contemplation, and
said, as she opened her handkerchief:

"My dear Sophy, I've got _such_ treasures--such finds; real, old
netsukes, signed, and _so_ cheap! Do look at this delicious rabbit!"
holding out a beautiful model. "Is it not too perfect, exquisitely
carved, and smooth with age? And the tortoise with the little tiny one
on its back--what a darling!" and she took it up and kissed it with
rapture.

It puzzled Sophy to witness this extraordinary enthusiasm and then to
recall the cold fact that, on her return to "Heidelberg," her aunt's
interest in these ivories seemed to wane and disappear. Was there not
a bowl of specimens in the drawing-room already consigned to oblivion
and dust? Aunt Flora's character exhibited an amazing combination of
fantastic caprice and invincible good nature.

CHAPTER XIX

CHAFF

It was Thursday, the Station holiday. A capital paper-chase had
recently engaged the entire community; the pace had been un