If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. So far the thing was acceptable enough. Supper was over. Giving him a wide berth, and keeping her pistol high, she made her way to the door and warily peered through it. " "Ah. 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.
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