"You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. "Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack.
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