<link href="css/hmh.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"/> <meta content="urn:uuid:52a88c7f-0118-42cc-8209-6dc0d14c9512" name="Adept.expected.resource"/> </head> <body> <h1 class="chaptertitle"><a id="p31"/> Chapter 25</h1> <p class="center"><em>James Fletcher</em></p> <p class="center"><em>House of Chen Shipping</em></p> <p class="center"><em>Boston, Massachusetts, USA</em></p> <p class="timebreak"> <br/></p> <p class="left"> To the Devils That Dwell in My Mind,</p> <p class="follow">I cannot help it. I cannot stay away. I try to resist the urge, but I cannot. I go to her place. I watch her dance. I watch her sing. Watching her perform, her face radiant with joy, it tears me apart.</p> <p class="follow">I cannot stand it. Although I do my duty to the House of Chen, my mind always goes back to her.</p> <p class="follow">I saw Ravi on the docks today, selling peanuts. I bought some and they were good. He appears to be doing quite well.</p> <p class="follow"><em>Pig and Whistle</em> was lettered on the side of the cart. I can imagine who did that and where it was done. There is a large pot in the center of the pushcart, with a scoop. Larger amounts are sold in crudely sewn bags made out of feed sacks. Smaller amounts are put in cones made up of cut-up newspapers.</p> <p class="follow">I shamelessly pumped Ravi for information. “Yes, Memsahib has many friends—most friendly with mens—sing and dance most pretty. She friendly with everyone.”</p> <p class="follow">I’ll just bet she is . . .</p> <p class="timebreak"> <br/></p> <p class="first"><em>J. Fletcher</em></p> </body> </html>