‘Didn’t mean it, love. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. Spurling, you're a witness to the bet. A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. “Forgive me,” he said. Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. It came again. Why? Because he knew that when these two young people left, the island would become intolerable. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. If you desire to please me, you will go.
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