CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement.
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