” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. 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. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. I spent many happy days there. How will I protect myself if you do not?’ ‘If you will only confide in me, I will be happy to protect you,’ Gerald said cheerfully. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television.
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