. She did not speak to John in the week of school left after the Prom. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. The whole affair interested him deeply. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. They conversed, or more or less she interviewed him.
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