215.Chapter Eighteen（16）

itwasaftermidnightwhenthelastofthehelicopterstookitsflight。******stupefiedbysoma，andexhaustedbyalong-drawnfrenzyofsensuality，thesavagelaysleepingintheheather。thesunwasalreadyhighwhenheawoke。helayforamoment，blinkinginowlishincomprehensionatthelight；thensuddenlyremembered–everything。

“oh，mygod，mygod！”hecoveredhiseyeswithhishand。

thateveningtheswarmofhelicoptersthatcamebuzzingacrossthehog’sbackwasadarkcloudtenkilometreslong。thedescriptionoflastnight’sorgyofatonementhadbeeninallthepapers。

“savage！”calledthefirstarrivals，astheyalightedfromtheirmachine。“mr。savage！”

therewasnoanswer。

thedoorofthelighthousewasajar。theypusheditopenandwalkedintoashutteredtwilight。throughanarchwayonthefurthersideoftheroomtheycouldseethebottomofthestaircasethatleduptothehigherfloors。justunderthecrownofthearchdangledapairoffeet。

“mr。savage！”

slowly，veryslowly，liketwounhurriedcompassneedles，thefeetturnedtowardstheright；north，north-east，east，south-east，south，south-south-west；thenpaused，and，afterafewseconds，turnedasunhurriedlybacktowardstheleft。south-south-west，south，south-east，east。…

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