“Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. "We'll see that," replied Jonathan. If only you knew what this means to me!" "We do, lad," replied McClintock, gravely. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. That's slang, meaning you're splendid. 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 sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere.
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