Overhead a blue sky without a cloud; in the distance the sound of the surf--a muffled bass which broke on the tink of the bell at the French Mission or the scream of the parrot on the broad verandah of the Exiles’ Club. On the lawn in front of the verandah two natives had just finished their reluctant work with the mower. They wore loin-cloths of tappa and nothing else. The head-gardener wore a loin-cloth of tappa and a white evening-dress waistcoat, the latter being the gift of Dr Soames Pryce. The waistcoat was splendid but unclean. The head-gardener had been inspecting the work of the others from a recumbent position. All three passed away now along the grass path under the laden orange …
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