“I have made no arrangements as yet— none at all. ’ ‘So I see. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. He handed Ruth a letter. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. 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. They would forget to feed them as well so I spent a lot of time shoplifting in grocery stores and sifting through garbage behind restaurants. ” He pointed to Ennison, who in his turn looked across at Anna.
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