THE DEVIL'S KITCHEN S3 



communing with himseK, as now, hunting for a 

 metaphor to express the sea's calmness. 



Miss Grimshaw, passionately anxious to be on 

 land again, was not the less so as she watched him 

 muttering and mouthing and talking to himself. 

 She had now been contemplating him at close 

 quarters in the open light of day for a considerable 

 time, and her study of him did not improve her 

 opinion of him; in fact, she was beginning to per- 

 ceive that in Mr Giveen there was something more 

 than a harmless gentleman rather soft and with a 

 passion for flirtation. She saw, or thought she 

 could see, behind the Sunny Jim expression, be- 

 hind the jocularity and buffoonery and soft 

 stupidity which made him sometimes mildly 

 amusing and sometimes acutely irritating, a 

 mahgnant something — a spirit vicious and httle, 

 a spirit that would do a nasty turn for a man 

 rather than a nice one, and perhaps even a cruel 

 act on occasion. Whatever this spirit might be 

 it was little. A thing more to dislike than fear. 



They were now in close to the cHffs, and the 

 entrance to the Devil's Kitchen loomed large, a 

 semi-circular arch beneath which the green water 

 flooded, washing the basalt pillars with a whisper- 

 ing sound which came distinctly to the boat. The 

 chfi; above stretched up immense, and the crying 

 of the cormorants filled the air and filled the 

 echoes. 



WheeHng about the rocks away up, where in 

 the breeding season they had their nests, they 



