"On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. And guess what? I don’t sleep much, if you haven’t noticed. Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame. The evenings were dulcet and soft. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. If she was in a position to help him she would help him; only it happened to be the other way round. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. Get the pole out of your ass.
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