It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to. But he didn’t marry her. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. To be exact, it was just sixteen hours and twenty minutes. Capes sat down in the armchair beside her. En tout cas, why had he not returned? She pondered the question as, later, she paced about her favourite retreat. Some one was standing beside him. If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. 235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection.
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