’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. ’ ‘That,’ said Gosse, ‘is a matter of opinion. " "I understand," replied Thames; "be it as you will. Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor. 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 is no longer mine; she is yours. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. ‘By the by, get Trodger to send up one of our best men, will you? Someone discreet. See what crime does, Sir.
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