"What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. "I have nothing. Now I have done something for which you might be pardoned if you did kill me. When I realized that she was a liar and a mean bitch I broke it off with her for good. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. We men are like children. Gold-handled, too. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. “Either I want to shout,” said Mr. Go to it; and the best of luck!" He went out.
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