“Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. It numbered nine, and four of these were women students. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. Mrs. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. He brought into service all his Oriental bar-room tricks. But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral.
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