The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. . The evenings were dulcet and soft. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. " While Mr. Wood trembled. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night.
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