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But it was easy enough to misdirect. Nobody saw a half-Chinese boy of thirteen and thought, “By George, that child must be a duke.”
“Look at it from their perspective. It would be exhausting if everyone who was white kept asking you things like ‘where are you from?’ and ‘how did you get here?’ Nobody ever asks you that, Mr. Wilderhampsher, and you’re not actually from Wedgeford.”
Her nose wrinkled, and for a second, he thought about what it would be like if she were his, avowed and acknowledged by all. He could pick her up and carry her home, and she could rest her head against his shoulder instead of that hard wood.
