“Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. “You are positively eloquent to-night—both of you,” she declared. Anna admitted the fact. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. Without a word, without a sign, Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society.
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