Patsy was too excited to resume her embroidery.
"I wonder if you are old enough to smoke ?" remarked Beth.
"I'm over twenty-one." "Indeed! We decided you were about eighteen." "But we are not Spanish in Sangoa." "What are your people ?" "Formerly all Americans.

The younger generation are, like myself I suppose, Sangoans by birth.

But there isn't a black or yellow or brown man on our island." "How many inhabitants has Sangoa ?" "About six hundred, all told." There was silence for a while.
"Any pains yet ?" inquired Beth.
"Not yet.

But I'm feeling drowsy.

With your permission I'll lie down and take a nap.