"I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. ’ You were to be kidnapped from the Manor in early July, but you took matters into your own hands in March. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed.
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