"Who are you?" she whispered. "I am Eileen Lorimer."
"I am—I was the wireless operator of the Vandalia."
The coolie paused a moment for breath, then the mad plunging of the paddle sounded again.
"The wireless operator? You heard my call?"
"Been waiting for China's lights—ever since. But how—what?" he demanded.
She was silent a moment. "I know the code. My brother owned a private station. We lived in Pasadena—ages ago. It does seem ages." She stirred feebly. "You don't mind?"
"No, no," he protested.
"I am afraid—such a long time. Weeks? Years?" She shuddered. "I do not know. Oh—I want to go home!"
The coolie broke into a working sing-song as he struggled. The tide should shift before long.
"Were you in the loft above Ah Sih King's?"