"
"I hate it all. I hate it all."
"But you seem to have perfect freedom?"
"Yes. My mother, you see, was not Chinese."
"But you wish to leave Limehouse?"
"I do. I do. Just now it is not so bad, but in the winter how I
tire of the gray skies, the endless drizzling rain. Oh!" She
shrank back into the shadow of a doorway, clutching at Durham's
arm. "Don't let Ah Fu see me."
"Ah Fu? Who is Ah Fu?" asked Durham, also drawing back as a
furtive figure went slinking down the opposite side of the
street.
"My father's servant. He let you in this morning."
"And why must he not see you?"
"I don't trust him. I think he tells my father things."
"What is it that he carries in his hand?"
"A birdcage, I expect."
"A birdcage?"
"Yes!"
He caught the gleam of her eyes as she looked up at him out of
the shadow.
"Is he, then, a bird-fancier?"
"No, no, I can't explain because I don't understand myself. But
Ah Fu goes to a place in Shadwell regularly and buys young birds,
always very young ones and very little ones."
"For what or for whom?"
"I don't know."
"Have you an aviary in your house?"
"No."
"Do you mean that they disappear, these purchases of Ah Fu's?"
"I often see him carrying a cage of young birds, but we have no
birds in the house.
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