“I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. “They all catch on,” she said. Gerald’s breath caught. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening. My wife—killed me. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating.
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