Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. She was, by certain signs, charged with anger, but she saw upon the faces of these two young fools the look of angels and an ineffable kindness breathed upon her withered heart. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them.
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