“Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. There were no mourners. I overheard them planning your assassination. ’ Baring his teeth in a smile of triumph that was every bit an animal snarl, and leaping up onto the seat of the pew he was in, he jumped hazardously to the next. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. “Perhaps, as I’ve only just arrived,” she remarked, “I might be forgiven if I do not change my skirt. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled.
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