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She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. His commissions this day would not fill his metal pipe with one wad of tobacco. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to. Another long interval elapsed. The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. "What are those odd-looking things on the roofs?" she asked of Ah Cum. "Farewell for ever," said Jack, extending his hand to Mrs.
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