She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. . "You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers.
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