Ursula felt very happy, was childishly appreciative and enthusiastic over every beautiful little statuette, over every example of the naive painters’ art which Yeh Ling showed her.
“Yeh Ling,” she said, when they were alone for a second, “have you heard any news of Mr. Lander?”
He shook his head.
“Do you think he has got away to another country?” she asked.
“I think not,” said Yeh Ling.
“Do you know, Yeh Ling?” she said meaningly.
“I can only assure you, Miss Ardfern,” said Yeh Ling, waving the cool air into his face with a beautifully painted fan, “that I have never looked upon Mr. Lander’s face since the night I saw him at the Golden Roof.”
She was content with this, but—
“Who was Wellington Brown?” she asked in a strained voice.
“Lady,” said Yeh Ling gently, “he is dead: it was better that he died so than in the way you feared.”