"I have had enough!" he cried, hoarsely. "Get out! Get out! Get back to your family. I spew the vision of you from my eyes!"
Lady T'ai Chên smiled.
"I thank you, my Emperor," she said softly. Why did her voice have to have that quality of golden chains drawing him to her? "I am glad to go. You weary me.
I am tired. Perhaps because of the ridiculous disparity in our ages."
The Emperor's eyes seemed ringed with blood, the fire of hatred at this creature who dared to defy him.
"Get out!" he cried furiously. "Get out!"
She took the hibiscus blossom from her hair, held it a moment to her lips, then tossed it to him. It fell at his feet.
"I'll go," she whispered, "but remember as long as you keep this flower, you will hold my heart."
When all the perfume and color had gone from the garden, he stooped and picked up the flower with shaking hands.
13.
And now it seemed as though Changan was in eclipse. Ming Huang had no appetite. He was well rid of her. She trespassed upon his dignity. Some whispered that Lady T'ai Chên wore half the robes of an Emperor. And an echo of their words had drifted back to Ming Huang. He would forget her in dissipation. He kept aloof from his wise counselors, seeking forgetfulness
among the women of the palace. Their arms
