” She murmured. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. ” She was cowed by the three dead faces that seemed to scream at her to restore order by any means possible, even if it meant forgetting the children of the whore and all the events that had led to her unfortunate situation. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. We struggle against it at first, but in the end we have to submit. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take it.
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