And Gosse had been still there, so Martha said, and not in prison. She got a bun and some cocoa in the little refreshment-room, and then wandered through the galleries up-stairs, crowded with Polynesian idols and Polynesian dancinggarments, and all the simple immodest accessories to life in Polynesia, to a seat among the mummies. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. If they become bad it is through inclination, not necessity. We met dissecting dogfish. Her companion was a person of no inferior condition. Something draws everybody.
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