Returning to the audience-chamber in a by-no-means enviable state of mind, he commanded the Jew to throw the body of Thames into the Well Hole. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly. We want to come to the station if this happens, okay? For your own good. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart.
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