’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits. Please don’t let any one know that. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. What a girl of sixteen cares for is hair and a high color and moonlight and a tenor voice. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. Her face expressed nothing. The militia were in already. And now, only twenty-four hours behind him … that is, if he wasn't paddling by on the return route to Hong-Kong or had dropped down to Macao. ’ ‘Oh, is he?’ Gerald said grimly. She went about the familiar home with a clearer and clearer sense of inevitable conclusions. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released.
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