’ While he trod a deliberate path through the pink saloon towards the door, Gerald encouraged a flow of harmless chatter about the people Madame had met and the parties she had attended. A wedding procession turned the corner. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. For five days The Tigress chugged her way across the burnished South China, grumpily, as if she resented this meddling with her destiny. “Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do.
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