She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. ’ ‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. By instinct. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. . ‘It will suit me very well that you go away, because you are a person without sense and I do not wish to talk to you.
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