"Brother," he said, "I understand, and I say again, now that I can say it in a new voice, my life is yours."
Then I began on my own account.
"Tell me," I said, "of yourself. Many of your fellow-countrymen come here—the lower orders—and they're all employed by the millionaire, Gideon Morse, who seems to prefer the men of China to any other. You also, Pu-Yi, are connected with this colossal mystery?"
He didn't answer for a moment, but looked down at the glowing end of his cigarette.
"Yes," he replied, with some constraint, "I am in the service of the honorable Mr. Gideon Mendoza Morse. I am, in fact, his private secretary and through me his instructions are conveyed to the various heads of departments."
"You are fortunate. I suppose that before long you will be able to fulfill your ambitions and retire to China?"
With a quick glance at me he admitted that this was so.
"And yet," I said thoughtfully, "it must be a very trying service, despite that you live in Wonderland, in a City of Enchantment."
Again I caught a swift regard and he leant forward in his chair.
"Why do you say that?" he asked.