"I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. “There was a keg, hash, LSD, pot, you know, the usual. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. ‘But it is entirely natural that I choose my own country.
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