James Boyle O'Higgins knew little or nothing of the South Seas, but he knew human beings, all colours. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. ‘I feared as much. “Do you mind very much?” He shook his head. The door to the room in question was closed. “I know the place you mean—very good cooking for such an out-of-the-way show. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. ’ ‘You surprise me. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly.
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