‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. There’s a great gulf opened, and nobody’s got any plans what to do with us. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. Then all the embarrassments of the matter flashed in upon her. I suppose the phrase—the word—originally meant a man who searched for food on the beach. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles.
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