Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. ’ ‘That is what you think? Eh bien. There is a musical programme, and we have the windows open and blinds up, and a pink lamp shade over the piano lamp—a sort of advertisement of the place, you know. I rather want them. He spoke in quick nervous sentences. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. ’ He looked the girl up and down.
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