Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. “FAIL!” she said. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. Preparations were next made for taking Thames on board. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. ’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. ” She looked at him quizzically and shrugged.
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