During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. Some day I shall come back, and I will show you on canvas the things which have come to me up here amongst the eternal silence. ’ ‘Well, but he was a deserter, you see.
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