’ For a moment he looked daunted. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. Primarily it was her own problem, and in particular the answer she had to give to Mr. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous.
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