Part 2 Ann Veronica Stanley was twenty-one and a half years old. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, mademoiselle, quite at your service. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton.
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