"I do," replied Thames, in the same tone; "we haven't a moment to lose. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. 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. From me. ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. ’ Not all the arguments Martha advanced, and they were many and varied, had the power to move Melusine. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. He moaned in excitement as his lips wrapped around the peak of her right breast. But that is men all over. ‘Now then,’ said the captain sternly, ‘I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing here.
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