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Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in
tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking
to weigh or to analyse them. ”
He shook his head. . 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. ’
‘But he gives them to me. "Tomorrow I shall have a visitor. Far too old to ask you on your first
date. “I hope that you are going to allow me to see something of you during your stay
in London, for the sake of old times. “A volatile temperament—yes, a volatile temperament,” Mr. “We have to be—
modern. Jonathan Wild!" he added, in a loud voice, "I
command you to release your prisoner. But for a long
time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 27-06-2024 08:57:02