As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the fibres of conscience. ‘Dare I suppose that to be of her making?’ Gerald flushed. What he there noticed occasioned a marked change in his demeanour. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. Charming girl.
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