Her maiden name was the Pretty Lily.

She is captain of this sampan, and fears that her husband does not rate A.B." Where the river disembogued, the Pretty Lily, cursing and shrilling, pattering barefoot about her craft, set a matting sail and caught the breeze.

Over the copper surface of the roadstead, the sampan drew out handily.

Ahead, a black, disreputable little steamer lay anchored, her name--two enormous hieroglyphics painted amidships--staring a bilious yellow in the morning sun.

Under these, at last, the sampan came bumping, unperceived or neglected.
Overhead, a pair of white shoes protruded from the rail in a blue film of smoke.