With a resigned sigh, SuLan reached for the coffee pot and poured out four mugs, muttering to herself in Chinese.  Whatever she was saying, it sounded humorously disgruntled...<br/><br/>And interrupted by a squeak from under the table!  A moment later the capuchin's hands appeared over the edge, followed by his head.  Scrambling up until he could seat himself, he shook his fist at SuLan and chattered at her for a moment.<br/><br/>"Fine," she pouted at her miniature chaperone.  "I speak English only, okay?  Better?"