tact. This I did only two or three times. Their rooms were warm, it was true, but the way they received me chilled me to the marrow. At night I returned to a room colder than ice.
Icy needles kept pricking at my soul, causing me to suffer constantly from a numb pain. There are still many roads to life and I have not yet forgotten how to flap my wings, I thought determinedly to myself. Again the thought of her death—again I cursed myself immediately and repented.
In the public library I often got glimpses of light, of a new road to life ahead of me. Tzu-chun, suddenly awakened to the situation, had resolutely walked out of our icy home; she was, moreover, without the least trace of bitterness. I felt as light as clouds floating in space, with deep blue skies above and mountains and seas below, expansive mansions, battlefields, motor cars, foreign concessions, grand houses, bustling market places, dark night . . . What was more, I actually had a feeling that this new life was about to open up before me.
We managed to live through the winter, a harsh Peking winter. We were like a dragon fly that had fallen into the hands of a naughty boy, and was tied to a fine thread, teased and cruelly abused. Though it might come through alive, it would be only half alive and would soon die.
Finally, after I had written him three letters, I heard from the editor of The Friend of Liberty. He enclosed only two book coupons of twenty- and thirty-cent denominations, while it cost me nine cents in cash for postage. Thus we went hungry one whole day for nothing.
However, what I had expected to happen finally did happen around the end of winter and the beginning of spring. The wind was no longer so cold and I had been in the habit of staying out for longer and longer periods. It was after
