243
one so pretty!" said my friend. "That's dear," I remarked. "Two shillings," she repeated flatly. "You can't be from here, because you're too white. Where are you from? What's your name?" probed P., trying to move nearer to her. "I'm from Macau; my name is Etola," she answered in English, slurring over a few syllables as is the Chinese habit. "Two shillings," she added later, after a pause. "How pretty you are!" continued my companion. "Show me your hand, tell me how old you are. Who do you like better: us, the English or the Chinese?" "Two shillings," She replied. We drew up to the frigate; my companion took her hand, while I was already on the ship's ladder. "Talk to me, Etola," he said to her, holding her hand. She remained silent. "Tell me what you..." "Two shillings," she repeated. I with a laugh, and he with a sigh, paid the money and went to our separate cabins.
Here, as in England and in the Cape, we were granted free entry into the club. The club is a type of superlative palace: its founders have spared no expense, to impart to the club the same opulence that is customary in London clubs. A number of big halls with windows facing the bay, a verandah, fireplaces, windows set in marble; bronze and crystal everywhere; excellent mirrors, elegant furniture - everything brought from England. But - alas! The halls remain empty; you'll have trouble attracting the attention of a sleepy Chinese man-servant, and then you'll order dinner and pay three times what it costs right nearby, in the tavern. The club is close to bankruptcy. The Europeans sit in their own corners for the greater part of the day, and in the evening prefer to gather in family circles - and so the club fails. But what a delight it is to relax on that verandah in the early evening, when the cool night air takes the place of the intense heat.
At six o'clock in the evening the whole population pours out of doors, along the seashore, along the avenue. Officers on foot and on horseback, business men, ladies make their appearance. On a meadow, near the Governor's house, music is playing. Not far from there, on a hill, in a stone house, lives the General commanding the local detachment, and right nearby a building, something like a monastery, houses an Italian bishop with a few monks.
Our people left for Canton, at which time I was lying in a fever and half sleeping heard the launch being lowered. I was awakened by a crash of thunder; a storm had erupted just at the moment of their leaving.