Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. 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. A faint, delightfully humorous smile parted her lips. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name. She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. It is no good. He turned to her and pinned her against the headrest with his kisses.
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