It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. “She has been to my flat before. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. Something drew you. No—you shall come with me to Waterloo. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. It is not every sort of creature needs—these males. ” “Come on! Why not?” “So I can spend more time with you, of course. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures. “Very sexy. You left Hong-Kong at night, by way of the Pearl River, and arrived in Canton the next morning. The money will last longer, and—it won’t bother you. “Always planning for death.
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