Ah Cum patrolled the length of the boat innumerable times, but never letting his glance stray far from the gangplank. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. ‘Flirting, Gerald? A new come-out for you. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood on it. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. I was worried. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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