The loneliness, the ruins of the spot, had impressed Davidson's simple soul.

They were incompatible with the frivolous comments of people who had not seen it.

That black jetty, sticking out of the jungle into the empty sea; these roof-ridges of deserted houses peeping dismally above the long grass! Ough! The gigantic and funereal blackboard sign of the Tropical Belt Coal Company, still emerging from a wild growth of bushes like an inscription stuck above a grave figured by the tall heap of unsold coal at the shore end of the wharf, added to the general desolation.
Thus was the sensitive Davidson.

The girl must have been miserable indeed to follow such a strange man to such a spot.

Heyst had, no doubt, told her the truth.