She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. Yet, here she was, in
the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely
wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with
yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and
diffused strange suffocating smells. And in these crowded four weeks,
what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes
and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows,
only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had
plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which
the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. ”
Chapter XV
A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE
Anna looked about her admiringly. “Do you know him?”
Lucy replied, “No, I haven’t met him.
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