Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. ’ Melusine sighed deeply. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk.
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