"I am. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. “You should probably wash all of that stuff off of yourself. " Downstairs he sought the hotel manager. She laid her hand upon his arm. Abruptly he gripped her wrist. Ever since he came here, three months ago, he has been the life and soul of the place; and now the death warrant has arrived, instead of being cast down, as most men would be, and as all others are, he's gayer than ever. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. The vast ironic humour of it: he was starting on his honeymoon! CHAPTER XIX Meanwhile the doctor, upon returning to his office, found Ah Cum in the waiting room. ‘Do not mix yourself in mine, and perhaps you will not die. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs.
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