The current of his reflections was broken.  He had moved a little towards the rails, and he was instantly aware of the girl cantering towards him,—­a slight, frail figure, she seemed, upon a great bay horse.  She wore a simple brown habit and bowler hat, and she sat her horse with that complete lack of self-consciousness which is the heritage of a born horsewoman.  She was looking up at the sky as she cantered towards him, with no thought of the crowds passing along the promenade.  Yet, as she drew nearer, she suddenly glanced down, and their eyes met.  As though obeying his unspoken wish, she reined in her horse and came close to the rails behind which he stood for a moment bareheaded.  There was the faintest smile upon her lips.  She was amazingly composed.  She had asked herself repeatedly, almost in terror, how they should meet when the time came.  Now that it had happened, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.  She was scarcely conscious even of embarrassment.

“You are demonstrating to the world,” she remarked, “that the reports of your death this morning were exaggerated?”

“I had forgotten the incident,” he assured her calmly.

His callousness was so unaffected that she shivered a little.

“Yet this Sen Lu, this man for whom you were mistaken, was an intimate member of your household, was he not?”

“Sen Lu was a very good friend,” Prince Shan answered.  “He did his duty for many years.  If he knows now that his life was taken for mine, he is happy to have made such atonement.”

She manoeuvred her horse a little to be nearer to him.

“Why was Sen Lu murdered?” she asked.

“There are those,” he replied, “of whom I myself shall ask that question before the day is over.”

“You have an idea, then?” she persisted.

“If,” he said, “you desire my whole confidence, it is yours.”

She sat looking between her horse’s ears.

“To tell you the truth,” she confessed, “I do not know what I desire.  Your philosophy, I suppose, does not tolerate moods.  I shall escape from them some time, I expect, but just now I seem to have found my way into a maze.  The faces of these people don’t even seem real to me, and as for you, I am perfectly certain that you have never been in China in your life.”

“Tell me the stimulant that is needed to raise you from your apathy,” he asked.  “Will you find it in the rapid motion of your horse—­a very noble animal—­in the joy of this morning’s sunshine and breeze, or in the toyland where these puppets move and walk?” he added, glancing down the promenade.  “Dear Lady Maggie, I beg permission to pay you a visit of ceremony.  Will you receive me this afternoon?”

She knew then what it was that she had been hoping for.  She looked down at him and smiled.

“At four o’clock,” she invited.

She nodded, touched her horse lightly with the whip, and cantered off.  Prince Shan found himself suddenly accosted by a dozen acquaintances, all plying him with questions.  He listened to them with an amused smile.