The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. Spurling and Austin at their evening meal, with Caliban in attendance. “No way!” Michelle cried, and also looked around for pedestrian listeners. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. “I had thought to go on to Kandersteg,” said Capes, “but this is a pleasant place. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton.
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