With an air of martyrdom Colonel Claire rose and moved over to the windows. Mrs Claire made a movement to follow him, but he said, ‘No, Agnes,’ and she stopped at once. ‘On second thoughts,’ added Colonel Claire, ‘I believe we should reconsider our decision about taking these people as guests. I—I’ll speak to Questing about it. Please let the subject drop for the moment.’ He walked out on to the verandah and past the windows, holding himself very straight, and, still extremely red in the face, disappeared.

‘Of all the damned astounding how-d’ye-do’s…’ Dr Ackrington began.

‘Oh, James, don’t,’ cried Mrs Claire, and burst into tears.

V

Huia slapped the last plate in the rack, swilled out the sink and turned her back on a moderately tidy kitchen. She lived with her family at a native settlement on the other side of the hill and, as it was her afternoon off, proposed to return there in order to change into her best dress. She walked round the house, crossed the pumice sweep, and set off along a path that skirted the warm lake, rounded the foot of Wai-ata-tapu Hill, and crossed a native thermal reserve that lay in the far side. The sky was overcast and the air oppressively warm and still. Huia moved with a leisurely stride. She seemed to be a part of the landscape, compounded of the same dark medium, quiescent as the earth under the dominion of the sky. White men move across the surface of New Zealand, but the Maori people are of its essence, tranquil or disturbed as the trees and lakes must be, and as much a member of the earth as they.

Huia’s path took her through a patch of tall manuka scrub and here she came upon a young man, Eru Saul, a half-caste. He stepped out of the bushes and waited for her, the stump of a cigarette hanging from his lips.

‘Hu!’ said Huia. ‘You. What you want?’

‘It’s your day off, isn’t it? Come for a walk.’

Too busy,’ said Huia briefly. She moved forward. He checked her, holding her by the arms.

‘No,’ he said.

‘Shut up.’

‘I want to talk to you.’

‘What about? Same old thing all the time. Talk, talk, talk. You make me tired.’

‘You know what. Give us a kiss.’

Huia laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘You’re mad. Behave yourself. Mrs Claire will go crook if you hang about. I’m going home.’

‘Come on,’ he muttered, and flung his arms about her. She fought him off, laughing angrily, and he began to upbraid her. ‘I’m not posh enough. Going with a pakeha now, aren’t you? That’s right, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t you talk to me like that. You’re no good. You’re a no-good boy.’

‘I haven’t got a car and I’m not a thief. Questing’s a ruddy thief.’