Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. "I am coming to the point, Joan. “Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. . She makes me feel terribly old-fashioned. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. "I have baffled you.
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