Whilst it is true that there are some aspects of plotting to strain the reader's credulity, I found it un-put-down-able. It's not even my kind of usual book, but was lent to me by my father, who spent a large amount of time in Shanghai in the '80s: he very much enjoyed the recreation of the city in the 20s, sleaze and degradation vying with allure. I had not appreciated how many dispossessed Russians ended up there, as opposed to Western European cities. Although the book does teeter on the brink, I felt that it captures the tragedy of their situation without descending too far into sentimentality or bathos. I wondered, however - how many more 'sins of the flesh' could Mr Bradby throw at the reader?? He runs the gamut from opium addiction and trafficking to paedophilia, via prostitution, adultery, bondage... I could go on...