She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. “I shall never be able to thank you. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. I believe I’m in love. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. And so she came upon the word Love. From then until four in the afternoon there was nothing to do—the whole island went to sleep. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. ” She stirred gently in her chair. “It really is not necessary.
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