The Tomorrow-Tamer Read Online Free PDF

the wife of the Government Agent, but she had married late and had lived in Africa only one year–she had not yet learned that however eager one might be, the questions must always be judicious, careful. But Mr. Archipelago was bland. He did not mind the curiosity of his lady customers.
    â€œNo, dear lady, it is not her name. Why should a person not pick his own name? It sounds Italian. I liked it. It suits me. Do you know what it means?”
    â€œWell, of course,” Mrs. Webley-Pryce said uncertainly. “An archipelago is–well, it’s–”
    â€œA sea with many islands, according to the Concise Oxford. That has been my life. A sea with many islands.”
    â€œThis is one of them, I suppose?”
    â€œThe most enduring so far,” he replied. “Twelve years I have been here.”
    â€œReally? That’s a long time. You’ll go back, though, someday?”
    â€œI have no wish to go back,” Mr. Archipelago answered offhandedly. “I would like to die here and be buried in my own garden. Perhaps if I were buried under the wild orchids they would grow better. I have tried every other kind of fertilizer.”
    â€œYou can’t be serious,” Mrs. Webley-Pryce protested. “About not going back, I mean.”
    â€œWhy not? I like it here.”
    â€œBut it’s so far away from everything. So far from home.”
    â€œFor you, perhaps,” Mr. Archipelago said. “But then, you are not a true expatriate. You may stay twenty years, but you are a visitor. Your husband, though–does he anticipate with pleasure the time when he will retire and go back to England?”
    She looked at him in surprise.
    â€œNo–he dreads it, as a matter of fact. That’s understandable, though. His work is here, his whole life. He’s been here a long time, too, you know. But it’s rather different. He was sent out here. He had to come.”
    â€œDid he?”
    â€œOf course,” she said. “If a person goes in for colonial administration, he must go to a colony, mustn’t he?”
    â€œIndeed he must,” Mr. Archipelago said agreeably. “If he goes in for colonial administration, it is the logical step.”
    â€œBut for a hairdresser,” she said, “it’s not the sort of place most people would exactly choose–”
    â€œAha–now we come to it. You are one of those who believe I did not choose to come here, then? That I was, perhaps, forced to leave my own country?”
    â€œI didn’t mean that–” Mrs. Webley-Pryce floundered. “And I suppose it’s a blessing for the European women that there’s someone in a tiny station like this who can do hair–”
    â€œEven if it is only Archipelago with his equipment that belongs in a museum. Well, well. Tell me, madam–what isthe current theory about me? It changes, you know. This interests me greatly. No, please–I am not offended. You must not think so. Only curious, just as you are curious about me. Once, I remember, I was said to have been a counterfeiter. Another time, I had deserted my wife and family. Through the years, it has been this and that. Perhaps one of them is true. Or perhaps not. To maintain dignity, one must have at least one secret–don’t you agree?”
    Mrs. Webley-Pryce gave him a sideways glance.
    â€œI have heard,” she admitted, “about there having been some trouble. I’m sure it couldn’t have been true, though–”
    But Mr. Archipelago neither confirmed nor denied. He tested a curl, and finding it satisfactory, he began to remove the mass of iron from the hair. Mrs. Webley-Pryce, embarrassed by his silence, turned to Doree, who was applying bleach to her own long yellow hair.
    â€œSpeaking of names, I’ve always meant to ask you about yours, Doree. It’s rather unusual, isn’t it?”
    â€œYeh,” Doree said, through her mane. “I