\"So did I. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. Having seen him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold, Jonathan recrossed the street. 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. That had shut him up for a while. "But I dread the effect your departure may have upon your poor mother. I am going to make a fresh start. Play fair with her. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. Henceforth Ruth would closely observe her fellow women and note the hang of their skirts. "The end is the most beautiful in English literature. " "That reminds me he's still at large," returned Ireton. " "Perhaps I'm too tired to plan for to-morrow. The tears flowed faster.
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