But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night. Spurling, half aside. The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. She entered and approached the bunk. She looked around her. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow.
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