He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Do you live here?" "Not exactly," answered the carpenter. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said.
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