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. . Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust. Martha was quite right. It was so arranged that Ruth went on duty after breakfast and remained until noon. “Have you anything to ask the witness?” asked the helpful inspector. People were passing in the street below. They were just nice. Lucy’s solos were exquisite in their precision and expression.
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