There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. She let out a delighted laugh. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. Clarice was from Lombardy, fair-haired and light skinned. Stars appeared in the periphery of her vision. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. Be so good as to come this way. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers.
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