He took no notice.
She repeated his name.
'For Christ's sake, Norah!' he said.
'No, listen to me,' she began again, 'don't think about ... what's happened.'
'Not think about what's happened?' he echoed as if he could not believe he heard her words right.
'Think what you'll tell the natives,' she said. But he only stared as if he had never seen her before.
At last he spoke. 'Norah!' he began, then checked himself, and as if, she thought, he was fleeing from her presence, shouldered his way out of the shelter.
She stood where she was, unconscious of the repugnance she had inspired. Had horror swept him beyond clear thought and speech? Or did he think his company intolerable while his hands were wet with her lover's blood? Where was he going? Out into the forest, driven by his thoughts? Or maddened by remorse to betray himself?
He was calling Matao to him and speaking loud and in Chi-wemba, so that the attentive group of carriers, sprawling by the fire, chewing dried strips of yesterday's meat, could hear. She gathered the sense of his words.
He had killed, he said, an eland in the hills. The announcement was received with murmurs of contentment and the firelight caught the gleams of teeth revealed by wide, smiling lips.