AFTER LUNCH, MR. PITCHOT CLOSED THE SHUTTERS HIMSELF, GIVING THE ORDER TO DO THE SAME THROUGHOUT THE HOUSE. A STORM WAS COMING, HE CLAIMED. I LOOKED AT THE SKY AS BLUE AND SMOOTH AS A SHEET OF CALM WATER. BUT MR. PITCHOT, DRIVING ME TO THE BALCONY, SIGNALLED ME ON THE HORIZON OF SMALL CUMULUS CLOUDS RISING INTO THE SKY.