“I should like to speak to you for a few minutes,” he said to Anna, dropping his voice a little. ’ ‘You wouldn’t,’ agreed Mrs Sindlesham. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. She moved a little nearer to him. The next morning came a compact letter from her father.
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