Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. “What have you been doing since our last talk? Still cutting up rabbits and probing into things? I’ve often thought of that talk of ours—often. He only stays here for you, hoping in vain. He admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the pleasures of Hong-Kong so close. ” She appraised him. She sat perfectly still, however. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere.
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