CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. ‘If you had met her, you’d understand. Thames," she urged, "the errand, on which you're going, can't be for any good, or you wouldn't be afraid of mentioning it to my father. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. Wood fancied he recognised. “A serious question. I’ve made an ally of her champion. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. ‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said. What were your findings?” Lucy asked. ” “You know she broke up with me, right?” Mike appeared to be on the verge of tears.
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