At first Spurlock tasted coconut in his eggs, in what meat he ate; it permeated everything, taste and smell. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed. ‘Wait, Jacques! I will find the way to open this. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. “Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde.
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