The stranger concluded he could not be far from his destination, and a turn in the road showed him the house. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. An Englishwoman. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. 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. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet.
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