H'm!" Over the desk, on the wall, was a map of the South Pacific archipelagoes, embossed by a number of little circles drawn in red ink. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned.
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