She doubted if Manning would even listen to that. “Okay. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding him annually about half a million nuts. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. 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. He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses. She still had her letter of credit. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple.
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