She found the silence comforting, as old people often do. She knew she was a monster and so did they. At least here she was safe. I set myself to find employment. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. To reach the Sha-mien—and particularly the Hotel Victoria—one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season.
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