Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. \" His tone was weak and conciliatory. There was a certain amount of disputation, and meanwhile she went on at school. 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. If Ray left the house, it would be easy. "I was only commenting. “Frightful lot of things aren’t settled,” said Ann Veronica. \" \"I'm sorry I didn't call. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. ” Her mind diverged to other aspects, and another type of womanhood.
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