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"When I send you forth without purse or scrip, lacked ye anything? And they said 'Nothing.'" So it was with me. About December 2nd, I dreamt that I was resting on a bright afternoon on my bed, and that I heard my husband's steps coming up the stairs. He entered with a death's head on his shoulders, walked over to the bed and knelt beside it. I said "Does that mean you are dead?"
"No," was the answer, "It is a mask of death."
Thereupon he took it off for a minute to show his natural face before replacing it. At this moment Ma Lien Ching, our cook, came to the door with a tray of tea. My husband said to me, "Show no sign that I am here. He cannot see me. It is only my spirit that is here."
Ma came and put the tray down, and left the room.
December 6th was a beautiful day of sunshine. The siren from my husband's river steamer blew and the whole family as usual ran to the verandah to wave farewell. Happy, the mongrel, always recognized it also, and would scramble up half awake and make for the verandah. There he would stand, with his head poking through the rails. I do not think he knew what we were watching, though Ah Ng, the amah insisted that he did. He only knew that when the ship's siren blew, the whole family dropped everything and made a bee-line for the verandah! This day we were joined by Miss Day and Miss Edwards, two China Inland Missionaries who were passing through Hong Kong and who were staying with us. Our Captain waved to us from the bridge, and that was the last I saw of him until August the following year when I met him almost casually on the streets of Lourenco Marques.
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