For all that, Ah Cum was forced to admit that his charge did not look dissipated. The vast ironic humour of it: he was starting on his honeymoon! CHAPTER XIX Meanwhile the doctor, upon returning to his office, found Ah Cum in the waiting room. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. All alone; and nobody cared whether he lived or died. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room.
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