ingratiatingly, in the noisome filth.
Beside the body are stretched two naked stumps of
flesh, on one the remnant of a foot. The wounds
are not new wounds, but they are open and they
fester. There are flies on them.
The Thing is whining, shrilly, hideously.

_Professionally maimed, I think._
Christ!

Hwai Yuen


Interlude

It is going to be hot here.
Already the sun is treacherous and a dull mugginess is
in the air. I note that winter clothes are shedding
one by one.

In the market-place sits a coolie, expanding in the
warmth.
He has opened his ragged upper garments and his
bronze body is naked to the belt.
He is examining it minutely, occasionally picking at
something with the dainty hand of the Orient.
If he had ever seen a zoological garden I should say
he was imitating the monkeys there.
As he has not, I dare say the taste is ingrained.