Ernest Bramah,
The Wallet of Kai Lung — VI
(1900)
“ After the space of a few moments spent in arranging certain objects and in inward contemplation, Yang Hu crossed the chamber, still holding the half-filled vessel of gold-leaf in his hand, and drawing back the hanging silk, gazed over the silent streets of Ching-fow and towards the great sky-lantern above.“Hiya is faithless,” he said at length in an unspeaking voice; “this person’s mother a bitter-tasting memory, his father a swiftly passing shadow that is now for ever lost.” ”
