Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. "Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park.
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