The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. "Another moment, and it'll be too late. And then she fell into a musing about Capes. For five days The Tigress chugged her way across the burnished South China, grumpily, as if she resented this meddling with her destiny.
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