It’s awkward, but we’ll get round it somehow. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. For a stunned moment, Emile did not speak. Pig and brute! Yet calling him hard names would not help her. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. She delighted in frustrating him.
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