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. And I’ll have that story off you as we journey back to town. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. \"I’ve never been to any of Lincoln’s dances. ” She looked at her toes. ‘I do not know the word in English. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. "My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you.
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