Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. Just by walking in you can tell if it is a good house or a bad house. The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. On the way home he was still thoughtful. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. This was automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended.
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