She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. Ah Cum said that it was customary to give the chair boys small money for rice.
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