The world, perhaps, will be educated out of its idea of fixed standards. And you promised to tell me. " "That is very kind of you," she acknowledged. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. Earles drew out his cheque book. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled. She shut her lips hard, her jaw hardened, and she set herself to struggle with him. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. They don’t know who did it, actually. "Bring the light, Nab.
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