It was a light musical farce, well acted and sung, and I enjoyed it.
Suzee looked on profoundly silent, and seemed to be quite wide-awake all through it. Just before one o'clock she leant to me and whispered:
"When does the killing begin?"
"Killing?" I returned. "I don't think there'll be any, what do you mean?"
"Oh," she said, "in Chinese theatres there is always very much killing; every one's head comes off at the end."
I laughed.
"You little monster," I whispered; "is that what you came to see?"
Suzee nodded.
"All Chinese plays like that," she answered.
We waited till the curtain fell, but there was no killing and all the heads were left on at the end. Suzee looked quite disappointed, and explained to me as we were driving away that that was no play at all.
The next morning we were up very late, and after breakfast in our room there was only time to drive out to the shops and buy for Suzee one of the hats she coveted before luncheon.