Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. He won’t be in uniform. What did you do when your father went on trips to other islands?" "Took off my shoes and stockings and played in the lagoon. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief.
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