The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. The island had evidently grown round this lagoon, approached it gradually from the volcanic upheaval—an island of coral and lava. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal. Don’t say the wretch was also following Valade. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. Stanley determined to improve the occasion. “Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. He was silent. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. I only want to know the truth, and I will move heaven and earth to have it set aside.
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