” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. \" Michelle agreed, staring into the clouds. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. Your aunt liked the pheasant.
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