The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. One of her duties, after she had been taught to read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to bed. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. She almost submitted to this ending of her adventure. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. Jack looked towards the door. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied.
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