"I am going without being forced," said Nancy with irritating self-possession. "You don't have to make me."
Kuei-lien, balked in her effort to frighten the girl, went ahead of her and opened the door of Herrick's bedroom. The shutters had been thrown wide to let in the late afternoon sun, but there had not been time to clear the mustiness of the place, the lurking odor of the drug, which clung to the bed curtains and to the implements laid ready on a table by Herrick's side.
Nancy evinced not a sign of disgust as she entered the room and stood waiting impassively for her father's first words. Yet she seemed out of place amid the disorder of the chamber, which was littered with signs of Kuei-lien's occupancy.
This was apparent to Herrick himself. Although the situation could not foster any illusion as to how he had been spending his days, the father nevertheless made the effort to greet his daughter with the ceremony proper between them. His orgy had burned itself out, but his face showed the strain of dissipation; his eyes were dull, there were haggard lines round the mouth, pouches of puffy flesh beneath his eyes. Nancy could not avoid glimpses of his unkempt fingers nor of the loose robe bound round his body.
"And what is it so important that you must ask permission to see me?" Herrick inquired, speaking in Chinese.
Nancy had her one sentence prepared. She uttered it in a low cool voice.
"I was afraid to leave my father so long alone with his enemy."
A pause, fraught with deep feeling, ensued upon these daring words.
"Is that all?" Herrick asked finally.
"Yes," admitted the girl, "that is all."