“You remind me of the story which they tell against us over here, you know—of the Englishman who refused to be saved from drowning because he was unacquainted with his rescuer. She fixed her brilliant eyes upon him. 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. “Are there others like you?” “Yes. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. Sebastian began to maintain a harem. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. She listened with growing apprehension to the tale that Gerald told, omitting any mention of pistols and daggers, and at the end delivered herself of various expletives highly unsuited to a lady of her advanced years. ’ ‘Probably not.
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