[Fu-Manchu! - JB] “When did you last hear from Nayland Smith?” asked my visitor.

I paused; my hand on the syphon; reflecting for a moment.

“Two months ago;” I said; “he’s a poor correspondent and rather soured; I fancy.”

“What—a woman or something?”

“Some affair of that sort. He’s such a reticent beggar; I really know very little about it.”

I placed a whisky and soda before the Rev. J. D. Eltham; also sliding the tobacco jar nearer to his hand. The refine...
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[Fu-Manchu! - JB] “When did you last hear from Nayland Smith?” asked my visitor.

I paused; my hand on the syphon; reflecting for a moment.

“Two months ago;” I said; “he’s a poor correspondent and rather soured; I fancy.”

“What—a woman or something?”

“Some affair of that sort. He’s such a reticent beggar; I really know very little about it.”

I placed a whisky and soda before the Rev. J. D. Eltham; also sliding the tobacco jar nearer to his hand. The refined and sensitive face of the clergy-man offered no indication of the truculent character of the man. His scanty fair hair; already gray over the temples; was silken and soft-looking; in appearance he was indeed a typical English churchman; but in China he had been known as “the fighting missionary;” and had fully deserved the title. In fact; this peaceful-looking gentleman had directly brought about the Boxer Risings!
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