The Iron Bar. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. Wild in his own domain. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. The youthful couple had been seated in the carriage a few minutes when they were joined by Mr. “Fighting goes with loads of its own baggage, John. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face.
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