" He then sprung into the coach, the door of which was closed by Obadiah, who mounted the box. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. Why don’t you just tell me what is going on with you! Why the police questioned you! Why they’re looking for your mother? I’ll understand! Just tell me and I swear to God Lucy I’ll understand. 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.
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