Temple bells
there were in the clangour of the road cars. The smoke-stacks
had a semblance of pagodas. Burma she had conjured up before
him, and China, and the soft islands where she had first seen the
light. For as well as a streak of European, there was Kanaka
blood in Lala, which lent her an appeal quite new to Durham,
insidious and therefore dangerous.
"Not China," she replied. "Somehow I don't think I shall ever
see China again. But my father is rich, and it is dreadful to
think that we live here when there are so many more beautiful
places to live in."
"Then why does he stay?" asked Durham with curiosity.
"For money, always for money," answered Lala, shrugging her
shoulders. "Yet if it is not to bring happiness, what good is
it?"
"What good indeed?" murmured Durham.
"There is no fun for me," said the girl pathetically. "Sometimes
someone nice comes to do business, but mostly they are Jews,
Jews, always Jews, and------" Again she shrugged eloquently.
Durham perceived the very opening for which he had been seeking..
"You evidently don't like Jews," he said endeavouring to speak
lightly.
"No," murmured the girl, "I don't think I do. Some are nice,
though. I think it is the same with every kind of people--there
are good and bad.
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