He worried me to marry him. 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. She had been so young then. I didn't understand then, but I do now. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. " "Peace!" retorted Jack, with increased bitterness. He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. But, answer me. " "You are very kind, Sir," returned the widow, "but I require no support.
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