His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. Once before—but that had been different. Some Chinaman might take it into his head to shout: "Death to the foreign devils!" And out of that wall yonder would boil battle and murder and sudden death. He initiated sex with her, lightly fingering her clitoris as an invitation. All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. She wished her father and aunt would not enjoy their dinner with such quiet determination. "I thought we were going to have some music," she said. . All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought.
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