" CHAPTER XIX. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. He smiled at Ruth as she turned away from the bed, smiled with both his mouth and eyes; and she knew that here would be a man of heart as well as of science. The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable art. She became eager to explain herself, to show herself in the right light. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. The soi-disant Valade escapes and takes my proof, which I have broken on his head. That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents. Opening the trap-door, he then descended to the vaults —searched each cell, and every nook and corner separately. ‘Soldier of fortune. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda.
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