. Someone ought to be with him until the doctor arrives. After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. Where the devil have you hidden all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you. In some cases they were ground almost to powder; in others, driven deeply into the earth, as if discharged from a piece of ordnance. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself.
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