I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off. “Rubbish!” he answered. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. 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. “There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. He took about five minutes. ‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia.
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