She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. ‘Odds were against it. That is the age when Sebastianus took me for his bride. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. "I am not to be deceived.
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