“I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. ’ Gerald laughed. . Canton is all China at night. And so, here we are, right back from where we started. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things.
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