"Well, what can you expect, guzzling poison like that? Are you returning with us to Hong-Kong in the morning?" "No. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. I mean—I mean to do what I can. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself.
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