"I don't know his name. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. They were delighted. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a syllable to annoy you again.
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