I was in hopes you'd be content with my hat and wig. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. She taught him how to sail a proa, how to hack open a milk-coconut, how to relish bamboo sprouts.
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