“The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. 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. ” She caressed his cheek seductively with her left palm and he closed his eyes in dreamy anticipation. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. ‘Ask him.
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