"I like make you tea," he proceeded. "I like be fliends with, you, because you go Shanghai-side. I Shanghai man," he added, with some pride.
He inched himself a little nearer, sitting on his heels.
"I tell you what," he said. "I know all evlyt'ing Shanghai—tiny little piecee boy I know Shanghai—always. You want to know all evlyt'ing Shanghai, you ask Chun Lon, yes?"
"Very kind of you," said Alan, "but we have friends who'll tell us what we want to know."
"Ah, fliends!" Chun Lon cried, shuffling closer. "I say fliends! I say Chineeman you' fliend. Listen! You got maybe Chinee talk in paper no understand? Melican fliend no can tell you what. I velly clev'—can do. Can make all Chinee talk Melican talk, see, yes?"
"What makes you think we have Chinese papers?" Mark asked sharply, wheeling upon him.
Chun Lon merely blinked his narrow eyes slowly.
"Maybe not," he said amiably. "You make
