” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. He thought of his wealth for once from a different point of view. You hurt the child. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. Mark you, she wasn’t the only one. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. He turned to Ruth and McClintock.
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