I shall find him yet. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. The simile started a laugh in his throat. But it was only six-thirty. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. He stood up and she ushered him out of the small room. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire. “It is not that. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. “FAIL!” she said. So the young fool had not told her! McClintock had suspected as much. “Oh, damn!” he said.
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