* * *

When the baby was asleep and I was in my lonely bed I used to go over every minute of that honeymoon with Joliffe.

I used to say to myself then that if I had never experienced love and passion I should not have known what I had missed. Yet without them how could I have had my precious Jason.

The child had become my whole life. He brought me comfort; he filled the emptiness I must feel without Joliffe, though even he could not do this completely.

I wanted Joliffe. I could not disguise the fact. And I was growing more and more aware of the barrenness of my life.

I thought of the years ahead, those years which Sylvester had so carefully planned for Jason—they would be sterile years, because to make life secure for Jason I had married a man of whom I was fond in the way in which one could be fond of a respected teacher. But I was young; I had known deep passion; I had loved. I had to be truthful with myself—I still loved—a man who was another woman’s husband.

When I look back I think of Sylvester’s great understanding and humility. He was, I know, far more considerate of my feelings than I was of his.

He understood that I loved Joliffe and that Joliffe had betrayed me—although perhaps he was not to blame for this. Yet I was sure Sylvester believed he was. Sylvester thought Joliffe irresponsible; he had not wanted me to marry him because he had thought he would not make a suitable husband. He had known Joliffe from his boyhood. Of course they were such entirely different people. How could they be in sympathy with each other?

Sylvester did everything he could to make my life interesting—and interesting it was. It was merely that the vital force was lacking. I was young and by no means of a frigid nature. I had tasted the sweets of a union with a lover and I could never forget it.

The great interest between us was of course Jason, but in addition he took me more and more into his confidence. I read a great deal after Jason was in bed and I was becoming moderately knowledgeable in Chinese matters. I learned of the religion and customs of that country. I went up to London once or twice to Sylvester’s offices in Cheapside. I met his staff there and transacted some business for him. I was delighted with my success and so was he.

“It is wonderful,” he said. “You are indeed becoming my right hand.”

Which was small repayment for what he had done for me.

I thought then that it might be that Jason would one day take over his business and I would want to be beside him to advise and help. I had an added incentive.

Sylvester sensed this and encouraged me. He told me about the London office which was small compared with their premises in Kowloon. “There the bulk of the business is done. There we have our warehouse and offices. One day, Jane, you will go there.”

“I shall have to wait until Jason is older.”

He nodded. “I should like to go with you. I want very much to see again my House of a Thousand Lanterns.”

Whenever that name was mentioned for some strange reason I felt a tingling in my blood.

He used to talk of it quite a lot. He tried to describe it to me but it eluded my imagination and I could not visualize it. A house built years ago on the site of a temple.

I could feel excited at the prospect of seeing it.

“Perhaps I could make the journey,” he said.

“That would surely be impossible?”

“Don’t the philosophers say nothing is impossible?”

“How could you go?”

“I can walk across the room with a stick. I walk a little in the gardens. Perhaps if I made up my mind I could overcome my disability sufficiently to make the journey.”

His eyes glowed at the thought and although I believed it was impossible, I let him go on imagining it.

Whenever he spoke of The House of a Thousand Lanterns a change came over him; he seemed younger, more vital than he did at any other time. Then I could almost believe in the possibility of our making the journey there.


* * *

One day when Jason was eighteen months old I took one of my trips to London. I looked forward to these days. I liked to feel myself growing more and more knowledgeable about the business, and the excitement of seeing Jason when I returned made a happy ending to my day.

Jeffers would drive me to the station and at the end of the train journey I would take a cab to the office in Cheapside. When I had finished what I came to do I would have a cab back to the station and Jeffers would meet me at the other end. It had become a routine. I was no longer a young girl. I was a matron.

On this occasion all went according to plan.

I arrived at the office where they were expecting me. I met John Heyland, Sylvester’s head clerk, his two assistants and the young man in charge of the storeroom. There I saw the jade ornaments which would be delivered to buyers. Luncheon was brought in from a nearby restaurant and I took this with Mr. Heyland who talked of the old days before the family had split up. He thought it was a pity. Now there were three firms where there had been one—with Mr. Sylvester, Mr. Adam, and young Mr. Joliffe all working on their own. He had been in the Hong Kong office with Sylvester’s father who would, he assured me, turn in his grave if he knew there was all this division in the family.

I decided that I would do some shopping before I caught my train, so I arranged to leave the office early, and as I came out into the street there was Joliffe.

“Why, Jane!” he cried, his eyes alight with excitement so that poignant memories flooded my mind and for a few seconds I was happy simply because he was there.

Then I stammered: “How did you know I was here?”

All the old charm was in his smile and there was a hint of mischief in it too. He used to say “Didn’t you know I was the omniscient one?”

“Simple detection,” he said now. “A nod, a wink, a word in the right direction.”

“Someone in there told you,” I said aghast. “Oh Joliffe, you had no right…”

He took my arm and held it firmly. “I had every right.”

“I have to catch a train.”

“Not just yet,” he said.

My heart leaped in a joyous expectation as I reminded myself that I had left two hours for shopping.

“I must talk to you, Jane.”

“What is there to be said? It’s all clear, isn’t it?”

“There is so much to be said. So much to be made clear.”

“I must not miss my train. Jeffers will be waiting.”

“Let him wait. In any case your train won’t leave for two hours. We’ll get a cab. I know a place where we can have tea. We can be quite alone…”

“No, Joliffe,” I said firmly.

“All right then. We’ll go to the station. I’ll be with you till the train leaves. That will give us a little time to talk.”

Before I could answer he had hailed a cab. We sat side by side and when he took my hand and looked into my face, I turned away, afraid of the emotions he could arouse in me.

“So we have a son,” he said.

“Please, Joliffe…”

“He is my son,” he went on. “I should see him.”

“You can’t take him from me,” I said fearfully.

“As if I would. I want him and you… but mostly you, Jane.”

“It’s no use.”

“Why? Because you made that foolish marriage?”

“It was not foolish. It was the right thing to do. The baby has a wonderful home. He will grow up in the security he needs.”

“And which he couldn’t have with me?”

“How could he when you have a wife living?”

“Jane, I swear to you I thought she was dead. You must believe me.”

“Whatever I believe the fact is that she exists. She would be there always in our lives. How could a child be brought up happily in such circumstances?”

“You left me before you knew there was to be a child. You didn’t love me, Jane.”

The cab stopped at the station. We alighted and he gripped my arm firmly as though he feared I would run away. We went into the station buffet. It was noisy as such places are. Every now and then we heard the shunting of the trains, the shrill whistles, and the shouts of porters. It was not the ideal surroundings in which to discuss such a highly emotional problem.

We had two cups of tea which neither of us wanted, for all we desired then was to be in each other’s arms and leave explanations until later.

“What are we going to do?” he asked desperately.

“I shall go back to Roland’s Croft. You will go to your wife.”

“You can’t do this.”

“What do you suggest I should do?”

He stretched across the table and took my hand.

“Don’t go back,” he said earnestly. “Don’t catch that train. You and I will go away together.”

“You must be mad, Joliffe. What about my son?”

“You could bring our son with you. Go back now then and get the boy. You, I and he will go away together. We’ll go right out of the country. I’ll take you to Hong Kong. We’ll start a new life…”

For a moment I gave myself the luxury of believing that it was possible. Then I withdrew my hands.

“No, Joliffe,” I said. “It may sound possible to you but not to me. In the first place you have a wife. She is with you now, isn’t she?”

He was silent and I felt a sick pain in my heart because I knew she was. I pictured her in the house where I had been so happy. So it was a fact that they were together. Annie and Albert would look after her as they had looked after me. It was more than I could bear.

“You know how it happened,” he said. “I was young and reckless. And again I swear to you that I believed her to be dead.”