*** Madame la Comtesse de St Erme regarded the English major with a lacklustre eye, Gerald thought. I can smell you. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. Even the chattering monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the smelly dark of the jungle. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. .
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