’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean. ” He rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room. The starling, on which the carpenter stood, was the fourth from the Surrey shore. ‘So it is that you have made Jacques betray me. But his treasured dream lay shattered at his feet. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him.
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