That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. His legs were fine and strong, he told her that he had been a warrior in ancient times, to which she snorted in disgust. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. It was the grand nursery of vice.
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