On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. But I can give it its name now. What does it matter? It is here, and it is here to stay. It’s—Mrs. Wood's at Dollis Hill, wholly unsuspicious of any designs against him, and, in fact, entirely ignorant of your being acquainted with his return, or even of his existence. She turned quickly. She found him reclined, watching television in a small guest room hidden in a back wing of the massive house.
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