“You are a—ah—a Chink yourself, fool!” “I ain’t! I’m white—an’ square—an’ decent—an’—” “Ah!” He lit a cigarette and smiled placidly, and suddenly she knew that it would be impossible to argue, to plead with him. Might as well plead with some sardonic, deaf immensity, without nerves, without heart. And then, womanlike, the greater wrong disappeared in the lesser. “Ye’re right. I’m part Chink myself—an’ damned sorry for myself because of it! An’ that’s why I know why yer gave me no presents when lil Fanny was born. Because she’s a girl! As if that was my fault, yer fat, sneerin’ slob, yer! Yah! That’s why yer gave me no presents—I know! I know what it means when a Chink don’t give no presents to his wife when she gives boith to a child! Make me lose face—that’s wottya call it, ain’t it? An’ I thought fer a while yer was savin’ up the ducats to give lil Fanny a start in life! “Well, yer got another guess comin’! Yer gonna do wot I tell yer, see? Yer gonna open up that there new restaurant up-town, an’ yer gonna give me presents! A bracelet, that’s what I want! None o’ yer measly Chink jade, either; but the real thing, get me? Gold an’ diamonds, see?” and she was still talking as he, unmoved, silent, smiling, left the room and went down the creaking stairs to find solace in the spiced cups of the Palace of Sweet Desire and Heavenly Entertainment. She rushed up to the window and threw it wide. She leaned far out, her hair framing her face like a glorious, disordered aureole, her loose robe slipping from her gleaming shoulders, her violet eyes blazing fire and hatred. She shouted at his fat, receding back: “A bracelet, that’s what I want! That’s what I’m gonna get, see? Gold an’ diamonds! Gold an’ diamonds, yer yellow pig, yer!” It was at that moment that Yung Long passed her house. He heard, looked up, and greeted her courteously, as was his wont. But this time he did not go straight on his way. He looked at her for several seconds, taking in the soft lines of her neck and shoulders, the small, pale oval of her face with the crimson of her broad, generous mouth, the white flash of her small, even teeth, and the blue, sombre orbit of her eyes. With the light of the lamp shining in back, a breeze rushing in front past the open window, the wide sleeves of her dressing-gown fluttered like immense, rosy butterfly-wings. Instinctively she returned his gaze. Instinctively, straight through her rage and heartache, the old thought came to her mind: Swell looker—that Chink! And then, without realizing what she was doing, her lips had formed the thought into words: “Swell looker!” She said it in a headlong and vehement whisper that drifted down, through the whirling reek of Pell Street—sharp, sibilant, like a message. Yung Long smiled, raised his neat bowler hat, and went on his way. ―――― Night after night Fanny returned to the attack, cajoling, caressing, threatening, cursing.