🚀 go-pugleaf

wife in this
    country, so many an innocent village girl crosses the ocean secure
    in the belief that she is the honored wife of a respectable
    husband. She is landed as such, and, alas! often finds out
    when too late that she is merely the chattel of an evil and
    unscrupulous Highbinder society, whose paid agent is the man to
    whom she is bound. Soon after the Korea's arrival in port, on the
    voyage in which we are interested, I visited the ship to interview
    the Chinese women on board, and there for the first time met our
    little dark-eyed friend, Kum Ping. She had been carefully coached
    on the way as to the visits she might receive from foreign
    missionaries, and the replies to all our questions showed a
    guarded suspicion that seemed quite hopeless. Our cheerful
    interpreter talked on, nevertheless, and finally won a quiet smile
    and the offer of some roast duck (a great delicacy among Chinese).
    All warnings about the dangers and wickedness of Chinatown
    apparently fell on deaf ears. "I am a married woman, my husband
    can take care of me. I do not need your protection!" was the
    rather indignant response. So we presented some bright flowers as
    a token of good will and friendship, and with them slipped into
    the small, soft hand a talisman that might help her out of future
    trouble. Just a slip of paper, but the magic of the name and
    number written there many an escaped slave girl can bear witness
    to. Some weeks passed by after our visit to Kum Ping on the
    steamer. She had landed, and, like hundreds of others, had simply
    disappeared from view in that place of many mysteries, old
    Chinatown. One night perhaps a month later, I was called to the
    reception room to see a strange visitor (Chinese) who refused to
    divulge either name or business to any one else. On meeting this
    messenger I noticed his great excit