“It’s no sort of good, Ann Veronica, pretending one does believe when one doesn’t. “Besides, it is not so. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. “Damn!” said Ann Veronica to herself, rousing herself for a conflict. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time.
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