No one is safe. She spotted her opportunity. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. I heard John was talking about you again from Jenny McIntyre. From first to last, on this occasion, her aunt expostulated for about two hours.
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