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. ‘Which presupposes that she needs to hide at all. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer. The newcomer stopped short upon the threshold. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. “I have not quarrelled with her. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world. And she—’ ‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. ‘So are you. He returned, blue towel in hand. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill. You came to see me in the hospital.
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