The parlour was cluttered but cosy. She had tried to shift the subject of conversation away from herself and was even managing successfully until Chen the father addressed her. He wasn't satisfied with an assured income from the paper-mills your grandfather left us. He ate of the bread with great appetite, and having drunk as much as he chose of the water, poured the rest on the floor. For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another. She realized that no man had ever placed a mantle of respect upon her as Sebastian did; respect for more than just her pretty face and her now lost ability to bear children. ‘Do that again,’ he said softly, ‘and I’ll make you sorry you ever came to England. Sebastian rose from the tomb. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. Somehow.
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