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"One thing I'm convinced of: she was very fond of my mother. By the way, Mauri has a daughter."

"What's she like?"

"I didn't meet her, but I saw her photograph--a kid of sixteen or seventeen. A real little beauty she must be, if she's anything like as pretty as the photograph. Mauri was vague about her, but I gathered that she lives with her mother. Her name's Naia."

"Are there other children?"

"She didn't speak of any. Oh yes... I met Mauri's father on my way back. He was coming down the lagoon in a canoe, and we halted to pass the time of day."

"How did you manage to pass it? Does he speak English?"

"Not a word, but we got along with two or three words of French and the rest gestures. He seemed to be greatly interested when I told him my name, and tried to tell me a lot of things I couldn't understand. He kept on saying 'Makla,' which I took to be native for McLeod. I believe he remembered me as a child. Apparently he was urging me to go back, but I couldn't do that very well, after the dismissal I'd had from Mauri. A fine old chap, with a face full of dignity and character. What time did you get back?"