“He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. Les Misérables, A Tale of Two Cities, Henry Esmond, The Last Days of Pompeii, The Marble Faun … Love stories! Until her arrival in Singapore, she had never read a novel. The wards on the right were occupied by male patients, on the left by the female.
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