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. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. 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. " "Treated you like a white man there, did they?" "Like a gentleman. . " "Away with him!" cried Jonathan.
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