A new novel is again unlike her earlier books save for the heavy, insistent accent of the East- not the jungle of The Peacock, but an unnamed city with its squalid, hybrid density. There Len Chase, a half caste, a solitary, and an ascetic, works away at a small clerical job and lives alone in one room- in retreat from the overbreeding and poverty of his childhood. Tenderhearted, he gives in to a moment of weakness and gives refuge to Marie, sixteen, and although he enjoys her childlike charms and the opportunity to indulge and protect her, he is also irritated by her untidy habits and her worldly notions. His disgust- with himself- and with Marie-is reaffirmed with her pregnancy; the prediction, by his friend-Mr. Dey, that a tidal wave will flood the city gives him a little hope; but the storm brings no holocaust, only the birth of the baby- and for Len, a little promise for the future he had wanted to destroy. A strange, rather dejected little story- brightened only by the luxuriance of its prose.