One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. She felt he would tell people the way, control traffic, and refuse admission to public buildings with invincible correctness and the very finest explicit feelings possible. He moaned in excitement as his lips wrapped around the peak of her right breast. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. ’ ‘Dunderhead. ” He stepped back as though he had received a blow. This isn't your island, child; it's the great world.
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