And instead of accepting the situation gratefully, he felt vaguely hurt! One evening in September a proa rasped in upon the beach. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. With a gesture which was without any kind of emotional expression, the manager indicated the silent crumpled figure on the floor and gave the room number. ’ Gerald tutted. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other.
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