” She distantly remembered moments in childhood spent in phobic trance, when her father had told her God was punishing sinners in Hell. No, don’t interrupt me. I was—I was a corespondent. “Tell me more about this Martin Chen. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. “You will have some tea?” she asked. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. Lord, I am sixty.
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