" "Why?" McClintock put a hand on the doctor's shoulder. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. “I promise, Lucy. 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. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. "Certainly not," replied Gay. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it.
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