"Nor did I," the giant said with a booming laugh. "I was inspired, she'd inspire anyone.

Normally I dance like a rhino." They looked across at her. "Extraordinary constitution that girl, and wonderful, infectious laugh."

"Yes, Malcolm's a lucky fellow.

'cuse me, I'd best ask Henri to sub for Andr`e..." He wandered off.

Babcott watched Angelique. Curious that a doctor can examine a patient and not be aroused, he thought, even with someone like her. I wasn't, the times she consulted me at Kanagawa or here, though there was never any intimate examination, never a need except for the unusual heaviness of her period, a few weeks ago, when a careful examination was clearly necessary, though she never allowed it. I'd never seen her so pale or her lips so bloodless. Come to think of it, she acted strangely, wouldn't let me near her, just let me into her room briefly, almost as a stranger, when the evening before--the time I returned her crucifix--I had listened to her heart, tapped her chest and back and stomach and she had behaved like a normal patient. I remember her pulse was quite agitated, for no apparent reason.

Curious behavior.

Have I missed something? he asked himself, watching her at the roulette table, bubbling with life, clapping her hands with childlike glee when she won Red or Black, Zergeyev and others teaching her the finer arts of gambling. Strange she doesn't wear her cross as most Catholics would, especially as it was a gift from her adored mother.

"Grand party, Malcolm," Sir William said, coming up to him, stifling a yawn. "Time for me to turn in."

"Another brandy?" Malcolm was sitting near the inglenook fireplace, the fire down to embers now.

"No thanks, my back teeth are awash.

Great lady, Malcolm, great sport."

"Yes," he agreed proudly, mellowed by the wine and brandies that deadened the pain and calmed his fluttering panic for the future. Not as strongly as the medicine, he thought. Never mind, it's a beginning.

"Well, good night." Sir William stretched. "Oh by the way," he said, his voice easy, "could you drop by sometime tomorrow, any time that suits."

Malcolm looked up sharply, the thought of his mother's letter putting ice into his stomach again.

"Say eleven?"

"Perfect, any time. If you want to change it, fine."

"No, at eleven. About what, Sir William?"

"It can wait, nothing that can't wait."

"About what, Sir William?" He saw pity in the eyes studying him, perhaps compassion. His discomfort increased. "It's about my mother's letter, isn't it--she said she was writing to you by today's mail."

"Yes it was, but only partially, I had been warned to expect a letter. The first matter was Norbert, now that he's back. I hope this duel nonsense is out of both your heads."

"Of course."

Sir William grunted, unconvinced, but let it rest. He could do no more than warn both parties and then, if they proceeded, to enforce the law. "You're both warned."

"Thank you. Second?"

"Second was that I have been informed officially of the Government's plan to outlaw all trade in opium by British nationals, to forbid the trade in all British ships, to destroy our Bengal opium plantations and replant with tea. As you had led the delegation to ask and complain about the rumors I wanted you to be the first to know."

"That will ruin our Asian trade, our China trade, and completely upset the British economy."

"In the short run it will certainly cause a major problem for the Exchequer but it is the only moral course. Should have been done years ago.

Of course I understand the unsolvable silver-opium-tea triangle and the chaos of lost revenue it will cause the Exchequer." Sir William blew his nose, already weary of the problem that had harassed and aggravated the Foreign Office for years. "Think I'm getting a cold. I suggest you convene a meeting next week to see how we can minimize the confusion."

"I'll arrange it."

"Growing our own tea is a good idea, Malcolm," Sir William said. "Marvelous idea! It might interest you to know the first Bengal test plantations producing crops were grown from seeds smuggled out of China and brought back to Kew Gardens by Sir William Longstaff, Hong Kong's governor in your grandfather's day, when he returned home."

"Yes, I know, we've even tasted the tea, it's bitter and black with none of the delicacy of China, even Japanese tea," Malcolm said, impatiently. Tea could certainly wait until tomorrow. "Next?"

"Last, your mother's letter," Sir William added, more formally. "It's not the policy of Her Majesty's Government, or her officials, to interfere with the private life of her citizens.

However, your mother points out you are a minor, she is your surviving parent and legal guardian. I am obliged not to approve any marriage without the legal guardian's consent, in this case of both parties. Sorry but that's the law."

"Laws are made to be bent."

"Some laws, Malcolm," Sir William said kindly. "Listen, I don't know what the problem is between you and your mother, nor do I wish to know--she did draw my attention to the piece in the Times which can be read in several ways, not all of them good. When you are back in Hong Kong I'm sure you can bring her to your side, and in any event, you are of age in May which isn't far away."

"Wrong, Sir William," he said, remembering the same advice from Gordon Chen-- advice from men who don't know what love is, he thought without malice, just sorry for them. "It's a million years away."

"Well, be that as it may. I'm sure it will all work out for you both. Henri's of the same opinion."

"You've discussed the matter with him?"

"Privately of course. The French consul in Hong Kong is, er, aware of Angelique and her affection for you, your mutual affection. She's a wonderful person, she'll make a wonderful wife, whatever the problem with her father."

Malcolm reddened. "You know about him too?"

The lines in Sir William's face etched deeper. "French officials in Siam are most concerned," he said delicately. "Naturally they informed Henri, who rightly informed me, asking our assistance. Sorry, but it is an official matter of interest. You must be aware that, in fact, anything to do with the Noble House is a matter of interest," adding sadly, for he liked Malcolm and regretted the Tokaido as barbarism. "The price of fame, eh?"

"If, if you hear anything I would appreciate hearing first, privately, as, as quickly as possible."

"Yes, I can keep you informed.

Privately."

Malcolm reached for the brandy bottle. "Sure you won't?"

"No thanks."

"Is there an answer to my problem?"

"I've given it to you." Sir William kept his voice formal to hide a sudden wave of irritation. As if a few months really mattered, the girl's not dead as Vertinskya's dead, nor anywhere near as marvelous! "Your birthday's soon and Hong Kong only eight or nine days away. Of course you're welcome at eleven tomorrow, or any time, but that's all that I wanted to chat about. 'night, Malcolm and thanks again for the party."

It was past midnight. Malcolm and Angelique were kissing passionately in the corridor outside their adjoining suites. The corridor was dark, just a few night lights.

She was trying to hold back but she was enjoying him, more every day, his heat warming her more than yesterday--tonight his need, and hers, almost crushing. "Je t'aime," she murmured, meaning it.

"Je t'aime aussi, Angel."

She kissed him again, searching, then again stumbled back from the brink, and held on to him until she caught her breath. "Je t'aime, and it was such a lovely party."

"You were like champagne."

She kissed his ear, her arms around him. Before Tokaido she would have to stand on tiptoe. She did not notice it though he did. "I'm so sorry we sleep alone."