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Updated: June 7, 2025
The Ammidons had two of the box pews against the right wall: his brother and children were in the second, and, inside the other small inclosure, he shut the gate and took his place on a contracted corner bench. Taou Yuen sat with Rhoda against the back of the pew. The former, blazing like a gorgeous flower on the shadowed surface of a pool, smiled serenely at him.
With the utmost discrimination in delicate shades of beauty and luxury he was yet condemned to spend his days in surroundings hardly raised above poverty-stricken squalor. Incongruous as it was he could yet imagine Taou Yuen moving with a certain appropriateness about the Ammidons' spacious grounds and house; but he was absolutely unable to picture her here, on Hardy Street.
He saw, naturally, but little of the Ammidons a glimpse of Rhoda in the carriage and William on Charter Street; the Nautilus, ready for sea, continued in her berth at Phillips' Wharf.
The Ammidons sat about the willow, Rhoda with a hand affectionately on her husband's arm, the children Laurel and Janet staying without remark long past their accustomed hours for bed still and white under the blanching moon. Gerrit intently studied his wife, Taou Yuen, in a concentrated manner. She, too, was in white, the Chinese mark of sorrow.
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