It wasn't long before Miss Tang was bailed out by her own lawyer.
Her lawyer was a chubby middle-aged white man, with a kindly face, always sweating profusely; his face was shiny with grease, and when the sun hit him, he turned as red as a freshly pan-fried salmon fillet.
Now he was standing at the gate of Miss Tang's house, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead with a tissue over and over, saying helplessly, "Lilith, why didn't you go see your therapist again? Your psychological issues are getting more and more serious. If this continues, and the other side petitions the court to have you committed, you'll be sent to a mental hospital and locked up."
