"My dear fellow," I said, "what the devil is the matter?"
Graves looked to right and left, and the islanders shrank still farther away from him.
"You can see for yourself," he said curtly. "I'm taboo." And then, with a little break in his voice: "Even your dog feels it. Don, good boy! Come here, sir!"
Don growled quietly.
"You see!"
"Don," I said sharply, "this man is my friend and yours. Pat him, Graves."
Graves reached forward and patted Don's head and talked to him soothingly.
But although Don did not growl or menace, he shivered under the caress and was unhappy.
"So you're taboo!" I said cheerfully. "That's the result of anything, from stringing pink and yellow shells on the same string to murdering your uncle's grandmother-in-law. Which have you done?"