“Mine is a primitive and unstudied manner. Can you afford to give this time? There are your own affairs to think of. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. 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. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines.
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