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Chatterbox escorted MacArthur down the hall to the tea room. The Room as some called it. It was used for only one purpose: Meetings between two people who had applied for an Arranged Marriage. MacArthur knew the drill. He had been down this hall before. Go into the room. Chatterbox locks the door. Sit down and have tea with the girl. Stand up, kiss her hand, give her your number, take hers. After that, you were supposed to meet a few times, unsupervised in different public places. Then, you were supposed to come up with a ring. He never had. They weren’t the girl in the garden. The one who danced alone in the moonlight. He w