And now, only twenty-four hours behind him … that is, if he wasn't paddling by on the return route to Hong-Kong or had dropped down to Macao. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. New customs have prevailed over the old. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. Perhaps he had had money in the coat, back in Hong-Kong, and had been robbed without knowing it. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. But she made no answer. .
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