I’m glad I did. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. In nearly every speech she heard was the same implication of great and necessary changes in the world—changes to be won by effort and sacrifice indeed, but surely to be won. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. ” “The sooner the better,” he answered.
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