“Yes,” said Anna; “I believe it was Hing Kim Lin, or Lin King Him, or something of that kind.”
“Was it perhaps Kiem Ping Hin?” asked the lawyer, in a very grave voice. “Now think well before you answer.”
“Yes, Mr. van Nerekool,” she cried still in the same subdued tones, “that was the name.”
The young man could not suppress a sigh as he looked down sadly at the fair girl beside him.
“Why do you look so strangely at me?” asked Anna in some alarm.
“Do you know to whom this Kiem Ping Hin belongs?” he asked.
“No,” said she; “how should I?”
“Well, then, the Kiem Ping Hin belongs to Lim Ho.”
“To Lim Ho? what, to the son of the opium farmer?” cried the girl, covering her face with her hands as if she were trying to hide herself.
“That is the man,” replied van Nerekool, as he looked down anxiously at her.