Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. ’ ‘I do not care any more about the portrait,’ Melusine said, opening the door to the attic corridor that gave off onto the row of little rooms that served as private cells for the senior nuns. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. Despair engulfed her at the horrid remembrance that the one particular Englishman she knew to be sympathique did not at all wish to marry her. She felt sleepy and unusually irritable.
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