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.Above it was the Santuborg Mountain, wonderfully shaped and majestic, covered with a thick cloak of trees and at its foot a soft sandy beach shaded by casuarina trees.The banks of the river were covered with fruit trees, many of which were in blossom and there were little villages clamped onto the mud banks, looking as if the palm-leaved houses had been tumbled from a basket and left exactly where they fell.There were coffee-coloured women standing naked to the waist deep in the water with long bamboo jars upon their shoulders and children too young even to walk diving and swimming amongst them like little brown tadpoles.Along the uncultivated banks were pale green mangroves and behind them rose the jungle with tall majestic trees and monkeys swinging from branch to branch.It was so lovely that Bertilla drew in her breath and longed to tell Lord Saire about it.She knew that he would understand her feelings and share them.He loved beauty and it meant so much to him as it did to her.Reminding herself that she would probably never see him again, she ceased her train of thoughts.She felt that, even though he would never know it, he would expect her to be brave and try to understand the people of Sarawak, as he tried to appreciate those of the different countries he came into contact with.They tied up against a primitive quay and there were people crowding down to see the steamer come in and to welcome its passengers whether they knew them or not.There was a great deal of noise and hurly-burly.When finally Bertilla found herself walking down the gangplank, she saw among the beautiful brown smiling people milling about below her a tall gaunt figure who she recognised instantly.She thought that it would be impossible for her Aunt Agatha not to stand out in any crowd, wherever she might be, but particularly here where she looked like a giant among pygmies and a very unpleasant awe-inspiring giant at that.She had grown grimmer and uglier with age.It was not only her weather-beaten face that seemed to Bertilla more disagreeable than she remembered, but she had also lost her front teeth, which gave her a strange almost sinister expression.“So you have arrived!” she said in the hard harsh voice that seemed to Bertilla to echo back from her childhood.“Yes, I am here, Aunt Agatha.”Her aunt made no effort to kiss her or even to shake her hand, but merely turned and spoke aggressively to the three porters who were carrying Bertilla’s trunks.Bertilla felt almost ashamed that her trunks were so large and heavy while the little men who were carrying them were so small.Her aunt was ordering them about in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.Then she said,“This is the third time I have met the streamer.It’s just like your mother not to tell me the exact date you would be arriving.”“I don’t think Mama knew that the steamer left Singapore only once every fortnight,” Bertilla explained, “and besides that, I was delayed because the ship I travelled on from England caught fire in the Malacca Straits.”If she had thought to surprise her aunt, she was unsuccessful.“On fire?” Agatha Alvinston said sharply.“Did you lose your clothes? If so I will not be able to provide you with more, you may be certain of that!”“There is no need for you to provide me with anything, Aunt Agatha,” Bertilla replied quietly.“Mrs.Henderson, with whom I stayed when we came ashore, provided me with everything new.It was very kind of her.”“More money than sense, I should have thought,” her aunt replied irritably.As they were talking, they had walked away from the quayside and now they were moving along a street with wooden houses on either side of it and, because they were all down on the quay, there were few people about.But Bertilla had glimpses of hawkers crying their wares in what seemed to be a bazaar, heard gongs beating in a mosque and the wailing of a one-stringed instrument.“That reminds me,” her aunt said.“Have you any money?”“Not very much, I am afraid,” Bertilla answered, “but more than I expected, as I did not have to stay in a hotel in Singapore.”“How much?” her aunt enquired.“I don’t know exactly,” Bertilla answered.“I will count it when we arrive.”She looked down as she spoke at the handbag she carried.“Give it to me!”Agatha Alvinston held out her hand and Bertilla, surprised but obedient, handed over her bag [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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