She chaffered angrily, then laughed at some unknown saying of
Heywood's, and let them come aboard. Summoned by voluble scolding, her
husband appeared, and placidly labored at the creaking sweep. They
slipped down a river of bronze, between the oozy banks; and the
war-junks, the naked fisherman, the green-coated ruins of forts, drifted
past like things in reverie, while the men lay smoking, basking in
bright weather. They looked up into serene spaces, and forgot the umbra
of pestilence.
Heywood, now lazy, now animated, exchanged barbaric words with the
boat-woman. As their tones rose and fell, she laughed. Long afterward,
Rudolph was to remember her, a wholesome, capable figure in faded blue,
darting keen glances from her beady eyes, flashing her white teeth in a
smile, or laughing till the green pendants of false jade trembled in
her ears.
"Her name is Mrs. Wu," said Heywood, between smoke-rings, "and she is a
lady of humor. We are discussing the latest lawsuit, which she describes
as suing a flea and winning the bite. Her maiden name was the Pretty
Lily. She is captain of this sampan, and fears that her husband does not
rate A.
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