You see, I’m separated from my wife. ’ ‘You see, I am of them,’ she said seriously, ‘but not with them—yet. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. She was shifting, moving back. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield.
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