He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. \" He mumbled, his eyes on her breasts. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. “Mary!” He whispered loudly. Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. ” Ennison dropped the evening paper which he had been pretending to read. 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. ” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. ” “You have not answered my question,” he reminded her.
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