Fengtai District, West Passenger Station [北京西客站]: The platform has an impatient line of chilly yáng guǐzi "Foreign devils." The well wishers have waved goodbye to the Chengchow train--aboard it, Peter Fleming and Ella Maillart; now, at the door to the station restaurant, they look forward to free drinks at the farewell party.



"I am Dr. Chee, your host." His English is perfect--Cambridge, probably. "May I also introduce you to my daughters: Mingzhu and Chunhua." He offers his hand. "Welcome, and enjoy the evening. And you are? . . ."


"Admiral Kolchak and my wife." He shakes Dr. Chee’s hand.
"Zdravstvuyte--hello," says Mrs. Kolchak.
The camera's flashbulb "whumps": the photographer takes a picture of the Kolchaks; also, a bearded ancient inscribes with exquisite calligraphy a record of each guest. Dr. Chee nods towards Mingzhu. "Please, allow my daughter to attach a raffle token." She promptly pins a silver disc on to their shoulder, and bows prettily.
"And you are? . . ."

"Mr. Franklyn. British port authority, Weihai Harbour." He shakes the proffered hand.
"Mrs. Franklyn. And, of course, our Posie."
"Mr. Cheese!" Posie laughs unaffectedly.
"Really! Po, mind your manners."
Dr. Chee smiles: "Enchanting"; and nods. Mingzhu pins a silver disc to Posie’s shoulder.
Mingzhu brushes the girl's cheek with the back of her hand. "Tonight, child, you will be one of the lucky ones." The flashbulb "whumps."
"I am Dr. Chee, your host. My daughters: Mingzhu and Chunhua." He offers his hand. "Welcome, and enjoy the evening. And you are? . . ."