The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. His French is better than mine, so he knew exactly what he was handling. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. ’ Melusine’s heart leapt, raced for a moment, and suddenly dropped again. All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. “Cheer up, Annabel. Sheppard remained dissolved in tears. Here goes. I know now what it is to be an abandoned female.
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