In Singapore that had been her only dissipation: a dozen pairs of silk stockings. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you. 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. . You must think it over. He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses. He was angry. He barely shook the rose petals from her hair. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full.
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