Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature. "Fox-terriers of the sea; friends with every ship that comes along. “You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. That is what my mother used to call me.
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