"Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. “Do you want to ruin me? I shall walk back. Would you tell her … now?" his eyes flaming with mockery. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. I will take her away and make her serve me as my wife. Actually, he had come all this distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. But those days are over—quite over. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred.
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