She had a funny, conciliatory air with him, half ashamed,
partly humorous and amused, as though something about Kemper's sulky
ill-humour was continually making tiny inroads on her gravity.
Some mullet had jumped into the two boats--half a dozen during our
moonlight voyage--and these were now being fried with rice for us by
Grue. Lord! How I hated to eat them!
After we had finished breakfast, Grue, as usual, did everything to the
remainder except to get into the fry-pan with both feet; and as usual he
sickened me.
When he'd cleaned up everything, I sent him off into the forest to
find a dry shell-mound for camping purposes; then I made fast both
boats, and Kemper and I carried ashore our paraphernalia, spare
_batterie-de-cuisine_, firearms, fishing tackle, spears, harpoons,
grains, oars, sails, spars, folding cage--everything with which a
strictly scientific expedition is usually burdened.
Evelyn was washing her face in the crystal waters of a branch that flowed
into the lagoon from under the live-oaks. She looked very pretty doing
it, like a naiad or dryad scrubbing away at her forest toilet.
It was, in fact, such a pretty spectacle that I was going over to sit
beside her while she did it, but Kemper started just when I was going to,
and I turned away.
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