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. She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving. “It was a phase,” she said. It was, in fact, a group of interests quite unlike any other group, peculiar and special, and one to be thoroughly ashamed of. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees.
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