Kneebone assured her that he did say so; and, as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand very warmly under the table. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. Born on a South Sea island, she said. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. Mike chimed in. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound.
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