"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. She had the same sharp nose—which, indeed, only Ann Veronica, of all the family, had escaped. . ’ ‘Certainly that is true. ” They went on for a time without another word. God must love me, for he has guided me here. 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. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so.
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