"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. The vengeance of the assailants did not stop here. Near by stood Ah Cum and the young unknown, the former protesting gently, the latter insistent upon his demands. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness.
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