Flory and Elizabeth stood watching for a moment. Files of woman passed balancing vegetable baskets on their heads, and pop-eyed children who stared at the Europeans. An old Chinese in dungarees faded to sky-blue hurried by, nursing some unrecognisable, bloody fragment of a pig’s intestines. “Let’s go and poke round the stalls a bit, shall we?” Flory said. “Is it all right going in among that crowd? Everything’s so horribly dirty.” “Oh, it’s all right, they’ll make way for us. It’ll interest you.” Elizabeth followed him doubtfully and even unwillingly. Why was it that he always brought her to
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