” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. \"Finished mine in Study Hall. The face that looked down upon Ann Veronica was full of amiable intention. John looked at his feet bashfully. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. The man’s statement was explicit, and spoken with confidence. 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. " "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. ’ Which effectually silenced her. ’ She threw a melting look at Roding. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. Miss Stanley threw aside a black cloak to reveal a discreet and dignified arrangement of brown silk, and then embraced Ann Veronica with warmth.
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