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It
was
eleven
o'clock
when
he
returned
from
the
beach
,
and
therefore
breakfast
time
.
Chanca
,
the
Carib
woman
who
cooked
for
him
,
was
just
serving
the
meal
on
the
side
of
the
gallery
facing
the
sea
--
a
spot
famous
as
the
coolest
in
Coralio
.
The
breakfast
consisted
of
shark
's
fin
soup
,
stew
of
land
crabs
,
breadfruit
,
a
boiled
iguana
steak
,
aguacates
,
a
freshly
cut
pineapple
,
claret
and
coffee
.
Geddie
took
his
seat
,
and
unrolled
with
luxurious
laziness
his
bundle
of
newspapers
.
Here
in
Coralio
for
two
days
or
longer
he
would
read
of
goings-on
in
the
world
very
much
as
we
of
the
world
read
those
whimsical
contributions
to
inexact
science
that
assume
to
portray
the
doings
of
the
Martians
.
After
he
had
finished
with
the
papers
they
would
be
sent
on
the
rounds
of
the
other
English-speaking
residents
of
the
town
.
The
paper
that
came
first
to
his
hand
was
one
of
those
bulky
mattresses
of
printed
stuff
upon
which
the
readers
of
certain
New
York
journals
are
supposed
to
take
their
Sabbath
literary
nap
.
Opening
this
the
consul
rested
it
upon
the
table
,
supporting
its
weight
with
the
aid
of
the
back
of
a
chair
.
Then
he
partook
of
his
meal
deliberately
,
turning
the
leaves
from
time
to
time
and
glancing
half
idly
at
the
contents
.
Presently
he
was
struck
by
something
familiar
to
him
in
a
picture
--
a
half-page
,
badly
printed
reproduction
of
a
photograph
of
a
vessel
.
Languidly
interested
,
he
leaned
for
a
nearer
scrutiny
and
a
view
of
the
florid
headlines
of
the
column
next
to
the
picture
.
Yes
;
he
was
not
mistaken
.
The
engraving
was
of
the
eight-hundred-ton
yacht
Idalia
,
belonging
to
"
that
prince
of
good
fellows
,
Midas
of
the
money
market
,
and
society
's
pink
of
perfection
,
J.
Ward
Tolliver
.
"
Slowly
sipping
his
black
coffee
,
Geddie
read
the
column
of
print
.
Following
a
listed
statement
of
Mr.
Tolliver
's
real
estate
and
bonds
,
came
a
description
of
the
yacht
's
furnishings
,
and
then
the
grain
of
news
no
bigger
than
a
mustard
seed
.
Mr.
Tolliver
,
with
a
party
of
favoured
guests
,
would
sail
the
next
day
on
a
six
weeks
'
cruise
along
the
Central
American
and
South
American
coasts
and
among
the
Bahama
Islands
.
Among
the
guests
were
Mrs.
Cumberland
Payne
and
Miss
Ida
Payne
,
of
Norfolk
.
The
writer
,
with
the
fatuous
presumption
that
was
demanded
of
him
by
his
readers
,
had
concocted
a
romance
suited
to
their
palates
.
He
bracketed
the
names
of
Miss
Payne
and
Mr.
Tolliver
until
he
had
well-nigh
read
the
marriage
ceremony
over
them
.
He
played
coyly
and
insinuatingly
upon
the
strings
of
"
on
dit
"
and
"
Madame
Rumour
"
and
"
a
little
bird
"
and
"
no
one
would
be
surprised
,
"
and
ended
with
congratulations
.
Geddie
,
having
finished
his
breakfast
,
took
his
papers
to
the
edge
of
the
gallery
,
and
sat
there
in
his
favourite
steamer
chair
with
his
feet
on
the
bamboo
railing
.
He
lighted
a
cigar
,
and
looked
out
upon
the
sea
.
He
felt
a
glow
of
satisfaction
at
finding
he
was
so
little
disturbed
by
what
he
had
read
.
He
told
himself
that
he
had
conquered
the
distress
that
had
sent
him
,
a
voluntary
exile
,
to
this
far
land
of
the
lotus
.
He
could
never
forget
Ida
,
of
course
;
but
there
was
no
longer
any
pain
in
thinking
about
her
.
When
they
had
had
that
misunderstanding
and
quarrel
he
had
impulsively
sought
this
consulship
,
with
the
desire
to
retaliate
upon
her
by
detaching
himself
from
her
world
and
presence
.
He
had
succeeded
thoroughly
in
that
.
