You don’t know the thoughts we have; the things we can do and say. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their work because you have been with me.
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