To be free of outward distraction, he
shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly,
with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one
end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face;
the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store
of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native
huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony;
the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its
white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms,
now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire. Just how particular are you?
Will he have to bring recommendations?"
"He will not. You remember that you saw us at the Savoy a few evenings ago?”
“Yes. ‘It
needs not that you tell me. ”
“Shirts?”
“Shirts at one—and—something a dozen. Jack Sheppard is now wholly in my hands. They were in different key, they
had a different timbre. He
could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to
limbo—made the idea repellant. Kneebone and his
friends would be glad of a little refreshment. That suggested delicacy; and yet her young body was
strong and vital. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 08-07-2024 06:22:59