\"I'll have to ask Cathy, you know my foster mother? I have not been asked on a date before. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. Even were she to get an opportunity to scream, it would be some time before such a call, unprecedented though it might be, brought the nuns so much out of their absorption that they interrupted their prayer to investigate. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last.
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