"I will," answered the prisoner. That’s all about it. ” “But it is too late,” she declared. We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. Marvel," remarked Shotbolt. 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. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. Again, he would ask a few questions, and Ruth would answer them. She traced him by his scent.
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