She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. To-morrow, when she returned to Hong-Kong, she would purchase a simple but modern dress. Then he understood. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. “My God!” he said again. . ” Her hand hung over the side of her chair nearest to him. Certainly not a gentlewoman. Martin’s crush. Love…. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own.
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