It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to. He had no wish to drag the footman out of his way, once he had got his questions answered. Jack, meanwhile, heard, the shouts, and, though alarmed by them, held on a steady course. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. None presented themselves to save him from that return. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade.
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