Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. Enchanted. She could stow away, go to a place where there were no people to eat and end her life. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. He handed her a cheque for thirty-one pounds, ten shillings, and read the agreement through to her. ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. “Before I came to England I was told that there were two things which an Englishman who was comme-ilfaut never did. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale.
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