“But first things first,” Tristan said. “Let’s go to dinner. I’ll call downstairs and get a proper suggestion for an authentic Chinese restaurant from the concierge.”

“You do that!” Marissa said.

She took a shower and changed her clothes. By the time she was ready, she’d recovered her composure to a great degree, but she was still irritated with him. She felt deceived. At the same time she was thankful he’d come and that she wasn’t on her own.

For dinner the concierge sent them to a “typical” Chinese restaurant. It was a four-story affair with a colorful façade painted bright gold and crimson. There were myriad dining rooms within, each lit by extravagant crystal chandeliers. Like Hong Kong itself, the place was bustling.

Both Marissa and Tristan were a bit unsettled by the apparent confusion. People were everywhere. Large tables of noisy diners dominated each room. Everybody seemed to be shouting. The scene reminded Marissa more of a stadium event than a restaurant. Despite the hour, crying babies could be heard in every direction. And over the tumult floated strident Chinese music coming from hidden speakers.

Eventually Marissa and Tristan found a table. They were handed large menus bound in gold and crimson. Unfortunately for them the menus were written in Chinese characters with no translation. They tried to hail a waiter, but were roundly ignored. Finally one waiter approached. At first he pretended not to speak English. Then he seemed to change his mind. He spoke to them in English, but he was distracted and less than helpful in translating the menu. Despite these obstacles, Marissa and Tristan ordered dinner.

“Do you have any idea what we’ll be getting?” Marissa yelled over the din after the waiter disappeared.

“I haven’t the slightest,” Tristan answered.

The noise in the restaurant precluded normal conversation. Marissa and Tristan were content merely to observe.

In short order, their dinner arrived. It included a sizzling wok filled with unidentifiable wriggly vegetables. There was a basket of dumplings, something from the sea in a dark, salty sauce, several bowls of rice, and some haunches of greasy bird. There was also a pot of green tea.

Perhaps most surprising of all was that the food was delicious. Even if in the end they weren’t quite sure what it was, they heartily enjoyed it.

Leaving the boisterous restaurant, they stepped out into the street, whose traffic had scarcely lessened from rush hour time. They were on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong in the Tsim Sha Tsui section. Rather than hail a cab, they decided to walk back to the hotel.