The Chinese Orange Mystery

“I mean,” said Ellery softly, “that I am thirsty for knowledge, Miss Temple, and that in this case you’re obviously the fountainhead. Tell me something about China.”

“China’s being very rapidly modernized, if that’s what you mean. It’s gone a long way since the Boxer affair. Matter of economic necessity, in a way. With the Japanese forcing their way in¯”

“But I didn’t mean that, you know.” Ellery sat up and crushed out his cigaret. “I meant ‘backward’ literally.”

“Oh,” she said, and fell silent. Then she sighed. “I suppose I might have known. It was more or less inevitable. Yes, what you imply is perfectly true. ITiere are some really amazing¯shall I call them coincidences?¯to be drawn from the literal backwardness of China. I can’t blame you for putting me on the rack, with this incomprehensible business of a backwards crime absorbing your attention.”

“Good girl,” murmured Ellery. “Then we understand each other. You realize, Miss Temple, that I don’t know where I’m going. This is all probably sheerest drivel. It may mean nothing at all that makes sense. And then again¯” He shrugged. “Social, religious, economic customs are purely a matter of perspective. From our Western point of view anything that, let’s say, the Chinese do that is different from what we do¯or opposite¯may be construed, Occidentally, as being ‘backwards.’ Is that true?”

“I suppose so.”

“For example, although I’m the veriest tyro in Oriental lore, I’ve heard somewhere that the Chinese¯curious custom I¯on meeting friends shake hands not with the friends but with themselves. Is that true?”

“Quite. It’s an ancient custom and a good deal more sensible than ours. For, you see, the root-idea behind it is that when you shake hands with yourself you’re sparing your friend possible suffering.”

“How?” grinned Ellery. “Or should I say¯come again?”

“You don’t transmit disease so easily that way, you see.”

“Oh.”

“Not that the old Chinese knew anything about germs, but having observed¯” She sighed, and stopped, and sighed again. “See here, Mr. Queen, this is very interesting and all that, and I’m not averse to augmenting your fund of general information, but it’s so silly, this search after phantom backwardnesses. Really, isn’t it?”

“Do you know,” murmured Ellery, “women are peculiar. There’s an original observation! But it seemed to me that only yesterday you were taking this backwards stuff quite seriously. And today you’re calling it silly. Elucidate.”

“Perhaps,” she said cautiously, “I’ve reconsidered.”

“Perhaps,” said Ellery, “not. Well, well! We seem to have reached the well-known impasse. Indulge my silliness, Miss Temple, and tell me more. Tell me everything you know, everything you can conjure up at the moment, about Chinese customs or institutions which may be construed as ‘backwards,’ in the sense that they are diametrically opposed to customs or institutions here.”

She stared at him for a long moment, seemed about to ask a question, changed her mind, closed her eyes, and put the cigaret to her tiny mouth. When she spoke it was in a soft murmur. “It’s so hard to know where to begin. They differ at so many points, Mr. Queen. For instance, very often in building thatched huts you’ll find that the Chinese peasantry¯especially in the South¯will set the roof on the framework and build down, instead of building up as you¯as we do.”

“Go on, please.”

“I suppose, too, you’ve heard that the Chinese pay their doctors as long as they are well, and stop payment when they fall ill.”

“An ingenious arrangement/’ drawled Ellery. “Yes, I’ve heard of that. And?”

“When they want to be cooled, they drink hot liquids.”

“Marvelous! I begin to fancy your Chinese more and more. I’ve found, myself, that raising the internal temperature makes the external temperature much more bearable. Go on; you’re doing splendidly.”

“You’re ragging me!” she cried suddenly. Then she shrugged and said: “I beg your pardon. Of course, you’ve heard of the Chinese custom of eating as loudly as possible during a meal at a strange house and belching with enthusiasm at the expiration of the meal?”

“To assure one’s host, I take it, that one has appreciated the food?”

“That’s it exactly. Then there’s . . . Let me see.” She put her finger on her perfect lower lip and mused. “Oh, yes! A Chinese will use a hot towel to cool himself¯the same principle as the hot drink, you see¯and a wet napkin to wipe himself dry of perspiration. It’s infernally hot there, you know.”

“Imagine!”

“Of course, they keep to the left side of the road, not the right¯but that’s not exclusively Oriental; so do most Europeans. Let’s see, now. They place a low wall before their front doors as a barrier to evil spirits, since their demons can travel only in a straight line. So all approaches to front doors are winding paths around the wall, thus effectively keeping out the evil ones.”

“How naive!”