Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. It isn’t as though I haven’t done well. The Committee of Secrecy—that English Council of Ten—were sitting, with Walpole at their head; and the most extraordinary discoveries were reported to be made. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. ’ He endured the inevitable scold with patience, saluted Mrs Chalkney’s faded cheek, and went off to endure the necessary delay with what patience he could muster.
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