A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. And he unsheathed his sword. There was hope for me then. . You act your part capitally, but it won't do. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. Escape was now impossible. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. "But if you do not find this aunt, what will you do? What can you do to protect yourself against hunger?" "I'll find something. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it.
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