“ And how long is it since you have . . .?” he began.
“ It was a long time before I could bring myself to believe in this—this visitation.” Captain Whalley spoke with gloomy patience from under his hand.
He had not thought he had deserved it. He had begun by deceiving himself from day to day, from week to week. He had the Serang at hand there—an old servant. It came on gradually, and when he could no longer deceive himself . . .
His voice died out almost.
“ Rather than give her up I set myself to deceive you all.”
“ It’s incredible,” whispered Mr. Van Wyk. Captain Whalley’s appalling murmur flowed on.
“ Not even the sign of God’s anger could make me forget her. How could I forsake my child, feeling my vigor all the time—the blood warm within me? Warm as yours. It seems to me tha
