‘On the contrary,’ Gerald argued, frowning. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. Capes spoke casually of their plans for work. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. “How could it not have hurt?” His analytical side started putting in overtime.
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