‘Now then,’ said the captain sternly, ‘I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing here. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. But her heart kept on sinking. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. I've only a Chinaman who is studying under me; but he's a good sport and will help us out during the crisis. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind.
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