Mr. ” He fell back in his chair with an expression of tremendous desolation. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. 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. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. " "Faix, then we'll do it in style," cried the fellow. Aliva Trencher. "I'm glad to find I'm right. Later he dispatched a cable announcing the escape and the sending of the letter. Forgive me, but you have been looking, have you not, for some employment?” “Quite true!” she answered.
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