"He
usually went away in the hills when the restlessness came on. And I
fancy Li Ho--watched."
"Good old Li Ho!"
Desire nodded. "I think now that perhaps I did not quite appreciate
Li Ho. I should like to know--but what is the use? We shall never
know more than we do."
"Not about Li Ho'. He is the eternal Sphinx wrapped in an
everlasting yesterday. I suppose he did not have even a beginning?"
Desire smiled. "No. He was always there. He is one of my first
memories. A kind of family familiar. Sometimes I think that if he
had not been away the night my mother died she might have been alive
still."
Spence hesitated. "You have never told me about your mother's death,
you know," he reminded her gently.
"Haven't I?" Desire was plainly surprised. "Why--I thought you knew.
That is a queer thing about you," she went on musingly, "I am always
thinking that you know things which you don't. Perhaps it's because
you guess so much without being told. My mother died suddenly--of
shock. Her heart was never strong and the fright of waking to find a
thief in her room proved fatal. It happened one night when Li Ho was
away. We lived in Vancouver at the time and Li Ho often disappeared
into Chinatown. He had all the Oriental passion for fan-tan. That
night there was a police raid on his favorite gambling place and Li
Ho was held till morning. It was always he who locked the doors and
attended to everything at night. Perhaps it was known that he was
away.
Pages:
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236