THE WOMAN AT ASHFORD Tarling went back to his lodgings that afternoon, a puzzled and baffled man.

Ling Chu, his impassive Chinese servant, had observed those symptoms of perplexity before, but now there was something new in his master's demeanour--a kind of curt irritation, an anxiety which in the Hunter of Men had not been observed before.
The Chinaman went silently about the business of preparing his chief's tea and made no reference to the tragedy or to any of its details.

He had set the table by the side of the bed, and was gliding from the room in that cat-like way of his when Tarling stopped him.
"Ling Chu," he said, speaking in the vernacular, "you remember in Shanghai when the 'Cheerful Hearts' committed a crime, how they used to leave behind their _hong_ ?" "Yes, master, I remember it very well," said Ling Chu calmly.

"They were certain words on red paper, and afterwards you could buy them from the shops, because people desired to have these signs to show to their friends." "Many people carried these things," said Tarling slowly, "and the sign of the 'Cheerful Hearts' was found in the pocket of the murdered man." Ling Chu met the other's eyes with imperturbable calmness.
"Master," he said, "may not the white-faced man who is now dead have brought such a thing from Shanghai?
He was a tourist, and tourists buy these foolish souvenirs." Tarling nodded again.
"That is possible," he said.

"I have already thought that such might have been the case.