In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you. I had no idea!” She sat down abruptly and threw her wrists limply upon the table. “Please hurry. ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage.
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