156 He followed, “Um, is it okay if we talk in private for a few minutes somewhere?” Cathy was quick to reply. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. 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. He was heartily thankful for it. “He is a sad blunderer. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. ’ ‘Are we to infer that he had a choice?’ enquired Gerald.
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