He dropped the key on the counterpane. . Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. ‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly. “Indeed, I must implore you to return. Got the day off. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. "Always plenty to spare.
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