It was charming. At their backs they had the huge, fantastic
screen, brave and fine with its coat of gold. In front, through
the glass-paned valves of a pair of folding doors, they could see
the roofs of the houses beyond the Plaza, and beyond these the
blue of the bay with its anchored ships, and even beyond this the
faint purple of the Oakland shore. On either side of these doors,
in deep alcoves, were divans with mattings and head-rests for
opium smokers. The walls were painted blue and hung with vertical
Cantonese legends in red and silver, while all around the sides of
the room small ebony tables alternated with ebony stools, each
inlaid with a slab of mottled marble. A chandelier, all a-glitter
with tinsel, swung from the centre of the ceiling over a huge
round table of mahogany.

And not a soul was there to disturb them. Below them, out there
around the old Plaza, the city drummed through its work with a
lazy, soothing rumble. Nearer at hand, Chinatown sent up the
vague murmur of the life of the Orient. In the direction of the
Mexican quarter, the bell of the cathedral knolled at intervals.
The sky was without a cloud and the afternoon was warm.

Condy was inarticulate with the joy of what he called their
"discovery." He got up and sat down. He went out into the other
room and came back again. He dragged up a couple of the marble-
seated stools to the table. He took off his hat, lighted a
cigarette, let it go out, lighted it again, and burned his
fingers. He opened and closed the folding-doors, pushed the table
into a better light, and finally brought Travis out upon the
balcony to show her the "points of historical interest" in and