"But, pardon my intrusion. ’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. 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. For five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say. "Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. I don’t suppose a girl can tell if a man is in love with her or not in love with her. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. And, if Rachel had not carried a candle, the room would have been plunged in total darkness. “I’m just in time to say good-bye before I go, father.
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