‘It’s a marvellous drawing,’ he said.

‘Is it? I’m so glad you like it, because I’ve always been fond of it. The Chinese Ambassador gave it me.’

‘I know,’ he said.

‘But why do you copy it?’ she asked, casual and sing-song. ‘Why not do something original?’

‘I want to know it,’ he replied. ‘One gets more of China, copying this picture, than reading all the books.’

‘And what do you get?’

She was at once roused, she laid as it were violent hands on him, to extract his secrets from him. She MUST know. It was a dreadful tyranny, an obsession in