How he loved her t8 led light, how he loved her! It was as though he had never truly loved her till this moment, when he walked behind her in disgrace, not even daring to show his disfigured face. He made to speak several times, and stopped himself. His voice was not quite ready, and he did not know what he could say that did not risk offending her somehow. At last he said, flatly, with a feeble pretence that nothing was the matter: 'It's getting beastly hot, isn't it?' With the temperature at 90 degrees in the shade it was not a brilliant remark Accommodation Hong Kong. To his surprise she seized on it with a kind of eagerness. She turned to face him, and she was smiling again. 'Isn't it simply BAKING!' With that they were at peace. The silly, banal remark, bringing with it the reassuring atmosphere of Club-chatter, had soothed her like a charm. Flo, who had lagged behind, came puffing up to them dribbling saliva; in an instant they were talking search engine optimization, quite as usual, about dogs. They talked about dogs for the rest of the way home, almost without a pause. Dogs are an inexhaustible subject. Dogs, dogs! thought Flory as they climbed the hot hillside, with the mounting sun scorching their shoulders through their thin clothes, like the breath of fire--were they never to talk of anything except dogs? Or failing dogs, gramophone records and tennis racquets? And yet, when they kept to trash like this, how easily, how amicably they could talk! They passed the glittering white wall of the cemetery and came to the Lackersteens' gate. Old mohur trees grew round it, and a clump of hollyhocks eight feet high, with round red flowers like blowsy girls' faces. Flory took off his hat in the shade and fanned his face. 'Well, we're back before the worst of the heat comes. I'm afraid our trip to the bazaar wasn't altogether a success.' 'Oh, not at all! I enjoyed it, really I did.' 'No--I don't know, something unfortunate always seems to happen.-- Oh, by the way! You haven't forgotten that we're going out shooting the day after tomorrow? I hope that day will be all right for you?' 'Yes, and my uncle's going to lend me his gun. Such awful fun! You'll have to teach me all about shooting. I AM so looking forward to it.' 'So am I. It's a rotten time of year for shooting, but we'll do our best. Goodbye for the present, then.' 'Good-bye, Mr Flory.'