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. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. I thought you understood. \" \"No, but can you carry my lunch bag? Where is yours?\" Michelle asked. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels.
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