Man's fate is in his own hands. It did not seem quite fair. Petrified and speechless, he turned an imploring look at Wild, who was himself filled with astonishment at the pile of rubbish lying before him. They both listened intently. Eh bien, why did he not repeat it? What was she to say? ‘Prudence,’ she began hesitantly, pronouncing the name in the French way, ‘has said that she will help me to—to marry an Englishman. Cased and ribbed with stone, and braced with horizontal beams of timber, the piles, which formed the foundation of these jetties, had resisted the strong encroachments of the current for centuries. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. Wood. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. Out of the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed.
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