So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. He would give The Tigress a triple coat of paint, and take these two on a long cruise, wherever they wanted to go—Roundhead and Seraph, the blunderbus and the flaming angel. ” She laughed gaily. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. She had noticed a twenty year pattern emerging, and funny how opportunity seemed to strike just when she was getting truly anxious. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame.
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