Her aunt glanced up startled, and then sat very still, with hands that had ceased to work. From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. This roof is still open to you. Rhea commanded her.
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