They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. Jonathan nodded assent. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. She entered the kitchen. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. “Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power.
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