CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. I am a thing to be used. Some trustworthy Chinaman to watch, for a small bribe, while he, James Boyle O'Higgins, enjoyed himself in Hong-Kong, seeing the spring races, the boxing matches, and hobnobbing with Yankee sailors. Without you, we might have had some trouble. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. Come close to me, and let me hold your hand, dear.
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