Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. She finished the olive and looked up. “No, that’s fine. ” She cried once they were in the great room. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility.
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