“Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. ‘How is this? Proo-den-ss. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself.
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