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. It was, in his opinion, the most astonishing letter he had ever read. Ruth will be a gold mine for a man of your peculiar bent. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. “I should think YOU could do all sorts of things. “These are the times that would make me glad to live forever, if only they lasted. Sir John heard gossip about us—about Anna the recluse, a paragon of virtue, and Annabel alias ‘Alcide’ a dancer at the cafés chantants, and concerning whom there were many stories which were false, and a few—which were true. He drove to his apartment, a second floor studio he 120 was renting above a bakery. You know Martin, right? He’s that beautiful half-Chinese boy that skipped a grade and has an I.
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