Do you see why I have hidden the terrible things from you? I chose you because you are my perfect mate. That is what I must do. They are not your flowers. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. She ran away from you; and now I can easily understand why. But I don’t want to. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. Besides, my husband has shares in Sir John’s company. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton.
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