” It came upon him like a flash. A creeping numbness invaded her. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. I wanted to speak to you first. His shadowy eyes revealed two things: that he was oversensitive in his extreme intelligence and that he suffered an acute insomnia. After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. . “Sort of man who can see no further than his nose,” he remarked contemptuously. What they do with him afterward is off my ticket, no concern of James Boyle; they can lock him up or let him go. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies.
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