Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. She felt his whole mind sounding in ecstasy. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. Daughters were not like sons. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. Seldom they molested a woman who appeared to know where she was going and who kept her glance resolutely to the fore. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat.
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