“You’ll get me to allude to it, but you’d have to torture me to admit it. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. 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. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. ’ She was too distressed to bear this. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. Then he looked across at Mrs Sindlesham. Steeples toppled, and towers reeled beneath its fury. Into this new world, vivid with colour, came Spurlock, receptively.
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