” Mr. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me. " "A key!" exclaimed Wood eagerly. ” “The man?” 228 “Yes. “No!” “Don’t try and stop me. I wouldn’t even have to use very much gasoline. 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. "What the devil are you howling about?" cried Langley. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same.
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