The Three Sentinels
“A month earlier it would have been beyond any possible day-dream that Mat should find himself, well-paid, back in all the sensuous satisfactions of the tropics. Under his eyes in the comparative cool of the evening the tennis players twanged their little balls back and forth. Further away there were half a dozen couples on the nine-hole golf course. Eighteen had been planned with three long holes on top of the ridge, two devilish short ones and a long, downhill drive back to the valley. Every day at the bar someone would regret that Cabo Desierto had got the Sentinels on the ridge instead.
He had moved too far away from his compatriots. In war that had been unnoticeable. Even in a government office it had been disguised by the smoothness of routine for seven hours and thereafter the dispersal of colleagues into their private lives. But here—here the Company had made a home from home for its executives as well as its workers and, by God, he preferred the latter!
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