Whatever anticipation Ann Veronica had formed of this vanished in the reality. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. Martin said “Hi” to her in the halls every day now, a sure sign of trouble. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire.
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