Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. ’ All at once Mrs Sindlesham looked across at him, a sharp question in her eyes. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. ’ Gerald ignored this. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of St. Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. CHAPTER VI. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. He has always plenty of evidence in reserve. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested.
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