CHAPTER NINE
Now I have nothing. Even the joy of loss—
Even the dreams I had I now am losing.
Only this thing I know; that you are using
My heart as a stone to bear your foot across....
I am glad—I am glad—the stone is of your choosing....
Edward thought of Emily waiting for him at Shanghai. He had her address from Tam. He had telegraphed to her. But surely she would know, even without telegrams, that he was coming now.
It was a dingy hotel in Shanghai. It had brown pillars painted to resemble marble. The resemblance was as faint as was that of the paper objects on the mantelpiece to flowers.
Edward waited and waited. He had not told Stone where he was going. Stone had gone to a movie. Edward hoped that he would never see him again. Edward still had most of Stone’s remaining money in his suitcase. Somehow if he never saw Stone again Edward felt that the money would not matter. If one were never reminded one need not remember. A crime of which one was never accused was no crime. Edward had no self-accuser on the subject of money. There were limits to his humility and to his humiliation.