"I believe that Sergeant Gorman, the constable at the consulate——"
"I mean did any of the gentlemen go? Any of the gentlemen we met at the consulate last evening?"
"Why! Bless my soul! No! ... Not that I know of!" stuttered De Vaux.
"I wish that I were a man," she flashed back. "I would not see one man go out to a dangerous duty alone."
"But—but, my dear Miss MacAllister," blurted out De Vaux. "We did not know that he was going.... 'Pon my honour as a gentleman, we did not! ... He left before we were awake."
"That's one advantage of being a teetotaller," was the quick reply.
Mrs. MacAllister elevated her nose and gave her characteristic sniff:
"I think that Dr. Sinclair is simply foolhardy. It is perfectly absurd for a man to risk his life for the sake of those dirty Chinese. I do not know how any one can bear to live among them, let alone having to touch them." (De Vaux got very red.) "And as for going into a whole army of them to heal their wounds, it's simply Quixotic" (she pronounced it Kwy-so-tic), "that's all it is; Quixotic."
De Vaux winced at the pronunciation—perhaps also at the sentiment. He began to gurgle unintelligibly. As usual, Mr. MacAllister came to the rescue.
"It was with the hope of getting an opportunity to do medical work among these people that Dr. Sinclair came to this country. I should think that the present situation offers him an admirable opening. A physician or surgeon who is really in love with his work does not stop to consider whether his patients are attractive or not. His one thought is to heal them."