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. He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers. One gets drawn into things. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose.
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