The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. ” “Very well,” he said. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. Her aunt was a long time before she answered. 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. He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. ’ ‘Lucky indeed,’ answered Gerald, glancing at the pair again. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. \"Josh Durkin?\" Lucy whispered loudly.
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