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"That same evening, he and I were lying at the lip of a huge shell crater in the midst of desolation. It was pitch dark and raining hard, and for an hour or two we had a blessed release from shell fire. That was when your father spoke of you. You were out of danger, the doctors had told him. He'd seen Nina McLeod, too, while on leave, and young George. George's father was not with us then. He'd been badly gassed six months before and was still in hospital. By good luck I had a canteen half full of brandy and, b'gad, your father and I drank long life and health to you. How well I remember that night! I've thought of you as an infant ever since. A precious big one you've grown to be! I was knocked out the very next day, and that ended the war, for me."

"You returned to Tahiti then?"

"Yes, as soon as I was able to travel, and Alan and Nina McLeod came too, and young George with them. Alan was done for, after his experience with gas, but he'd lost none of his old courage. The climate at home was impossible for him and his doctors had urged him to go to the tropics. I had no difficulty in persuading him to try Tahiti.