"Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. I've a child here whom I wish to convey across the water without loss of time. But, indeed, he’s very human. It is generally deficient in the qualities it prides itself upon most. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. And if you mean that he may have reconciled himself with his own father, you waste your breath. This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. “She has been to my flat before.
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