“The young cricketers at the club did it,” I said. “Because they felt sorry for Emily and Tak-Wing, getting married without a party. I told you, Ba.”

“Don’t undermine me, Violet,” he said. “I want them to have a proper wedding, Cheung. With gifts, a tea ceremony, and a feast.”

Cheung raised an eyebrow. “You sanction this marriage?”

“No,” said Mah. “I don’t. But aren’t they already married?”

“In the eyes of the British, perhaps,” said Cheung. “But not according to Tin Hau.”

“No other family is going to want my daughter now,” said Old Mah.

“My family doesn’t want your daughter either,” Cheung said.

“Don’t you dare disparage Emily after you’ve already stolen her from me!” Father shouted. “She could have married any one of a dozen decent men instead of your low-class stinking son!”

“Don’t you dare disparage my son!” Cheung yelled. “He could have married any one of a dozen respectable girls if he hadn’t been corrupted by your shameless daughter!” He lunged at Father.

Old Mah stepped back in horror. While Cheung had had to defend his honour or that of his family with his fists more than once in his life, Old Mah belonged to another tradition of dignity.

Yim-Fong intervened. “This is no way for family to behave toward one another,” she said. “We’re all related now, like it or not. And there’s a war coming. We’ll have to resolve differences deeper than this. The ancestors seem to want our children to be married. We must accept it.”

“Well, thank God for the ancestors!” Father shouted.

“I am not a rich man,” Cheung said. “If this marriage had truly been arranged, you would have turned me down because I could never afford the bride price.”

“But you’ve already paid it. You sold your Tai Hang house to do so.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because,” said Old Mah. He was quiet for a long stretch, and I realized that he hadn’t intended to disclose what came next. “Because I bought it.”

“You bought it? You steal my father’s life and then you steal the house I bought with the compensation money? Do you think you own me?”

“I don’t own you,” Father said. “The toffs at the cricket club own you.”

“How dare you!” shouted Cheung, his face flaming.

“Father, Uncle, please stop,” I said. “We have to find Tak-Wing and Emily.”

“The child is right,” said Yim-Fong.

Amah nodded.

Grandma Cheung took a puff from her pipe to signal her exhaustion with the men’s belligerence.

“If you agree to the Chinese wedding,” Father said, “and carry out the rites that pertain to the groom’s family, I will give the Tai Hang house to Emily and Tak-Wing as a wedding gift.”

We all stared.

Cheung’s speechlessness was palpable.

Finally, Amah said, “You would reward those two spoiled brats for their shocking behaviour?”