“Is everything okay?” His mother touched his 251 shoulder gently, standing up. 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. We dressed it in a little music. She dare not risk it. ” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. Winifred's reception was kind, but more distant, and after the slight ceremonial she resumed her occupation. ‘It is that he needed me for his lie, no?’ Melusine said, striving to control the quiver in her voice.
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