207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. ‘The place was full of barbers and military men. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!….
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