Hanging Waters by Keith West

THE boy Ming So had struck up with the porter of "The Happy Heart" that species of friendship which is always possible between those whose stations in life are markedly different. Ming found in the porter's keen, cynical sense of humour a dryness which fitted well with the development of his adolescent mind, while the porter not only liked displaying for the boy's benefit such gems of wit as he possessed, but also felt that, in thus hob-nobbing with the powers above him, he was rendering more secure his own tenure of his post. The two would sit side by side in the entrance-hall, passing not always inaudible comments on the patrons of the establishment as they came and went.

This acquaintance, from Ming So's point of view, possessed a further advantage, in that from his friend the porter he learned just the gossip which he was expected daily to serve up to the noble lady Tung, and gossip, at that, which she could always verify, if she so desired, without the danger of her finding that the boy had drawn too deeply on his imagination. The two were sitting thus one late afternoon some three weeks after Ming So's arrival at "The Happy Heart" when a man came with a letter. This man was clearly not of the city, and to the boy, as he sat there only half interested, there seemed something familiar in the set of the man's shoulders, the line of the back of his head.