“I was frightened then,” she declared. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination.
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