"I am content," said Jack. 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. "I should be sorry to proceed to extremities," continued Sheppard, again raising the pistol. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. Lucy gestured to Michelle to follow her downstairs. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. “I guess I’m not the only one who wonders about your past. But I do not even care if I am absurd. . I know what I am doing better than you do.
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