He returned to the car, Cokes in hand. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless. He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. . ‘But I am perfectly serious,’ he returned in a voice of protest. So he found her when he came round the corner of the spinney. I asked you to go. Now, he must have folks somewhere.
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