She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. When I went I was refused admittance. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. ’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. “We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff.
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