“Of course I should get it—if you wanted it.... You had only to say you wanted it!” “You knew that!” he added after a minute. “Yes, I knew.” A little sigh touched her lips. They sat a moment in silence. Then he lifted the coat. “Put it on,” he insisted gently. She lifted her arms to the sleeves and smiled at him as he wrapped it about her.... Suddenly the look of pallor was in her face. It grew strangely quiet, and a touch of wistfulness curved the smile of the lips. He looked down at her, startled... the pallor in the quiet face seemed passed to his own. Hastily he laid down the still figure and ran to the entrance of the grove.... At the edge of the path he paused and looked up and motioned—gesticulating swiftly to a single figure on the plateau above. From his post above Kou Ying started. He leaned forward and lifted his hand in a swift gesture. He gave a harsh call. The men behind him leaped to their feet and ran from the trees. There was confusion and hurry and a swift chatter of voices, as they seized the empty sedan chairs and slung them to their shoulders, and moved forward toward the winding path that led from the hill. From the edge of the hill before he descended Kou Ying looked down again. The valley below was still. No one moved among the trees. From the mountain opposite, the quiet face of the Buddha looked across to the plain. XXV In the grove he bent above the deathlike face. A tremor crossed it. She brushed a hand lightly across her eyes, as if visions fled, and sat up. The color came slowly back to her face. “I had a dream!” she breathed. The green light of the grove shimmered about her softly and touched her face. “It was William Archer and the coat. But I cannot remember—” She passed a hand across her forehead. “Never mind,” said Richard. “We are going to take it home to him.” Her hand dropped to the dragons and smoothed them absently. “And to his sons’ sons forever!” she murmured happily. At the entrance to the grove, dark incurious faces peered in at the blue-robed figure that rested against the gnarled trunk.... The sound of quick, indrawn breath passed among the leaves. Richard More lifted her to her feet. “Come!” he said. They passed out of the grove where the sedan chairs waited them. The bearers prone on their faces on the ground uttered low words that rose in a kind of chant and ended in the long indrawn note of awe. Kou Ying alone stood erect. He held out his hand to the blue-robed figure and escorted it to the sedan chair and seated it with grave care. Richard More took his place in the chair beside her. “We return by the lower route,” said Kou Ying. He spoke a sharp word to the bearers. They sprang to their feet and touched the handles of the chairs. “Keep to the lower hill by the spur,” he commanded. The procession moved toward the low hill that edged the plain. And as they made their way up the long slope at an easy trot Richard More’s eyes rested on his wife.