Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. It’s a sort of guarantee of confidence. This is clear over my head. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. “Goodnight. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. " "I should think not," observed Jonathan, who had some practice in the knight's moods, and knew how to humour him. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start.
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