Even the man who wanted tobreak in here, I dont
think he really had the power.
The dark races belong to abygone cycle of humanity.
Butthat nasty insinuating insultingness is not fair in the game.
Juana would come to Kate, telling her stories from
the past.
But at night, like clotting blood theair would
begin to thicken again. She could not relax, she could not get her heart into place.
And if she thought he were ill, a black sort of fatalistic fearcame over her. She
thought of the grisly stories of the country, which she hadheard. In her white dress
and greenstraw hat, she felt a virgin again, a young virgin.
She thought of the grisly stories of the country,
which she hadheard. The man gave her a quick, far-off smile and was
gone.
And the first nightshe was kept awake once more by
his fierce snoring.
Kate hurried to her house and locked herself
in.
Unless there comes someSaviour, some Redeemer to
drive a new way out, to the sun.
Everything must be fun, must be variable, must bea
bit of an adventure.
At dawn began the scrape-scrape of the twig broom
outside.
As it was, Juana was like a terror-strucklizard.
And it was a terrible feeling, to belost, scattered, as it were, from herself in a
horror of fear. Point of honour, they were honest tothe least little plum in the
fruit bowl.
Yet nobody moved at once, when thethud of the drum
struck again like a summons.