Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Capes? Well, think what it must be to live in them—soul and mind and body! It’s fun for a man to jest at our position. It’s a beautiful plant, but a tender one. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind. She was naturally weaker, she would tire quicker, and she need not concern herself with the peculiar obligations of honour obtaining amongst gentlemen. F. Sheppard had been interred. Spurling, drily. But the lady was not so easily won; and though she did not absolutely reject him, gave him very slight hopes. To her satisfaction, the captain reddened a trifle. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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