Entranced, he stared at the name. “I will believe you. She looked at him as he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s door. And there arose too, a background of shouts. It was the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. 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. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image.
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