She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. She opened her mouth and inhaled water. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. “It can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. ’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla. There was none.
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