” She repeated, as if she answered an objector: “A sort of blacklegging. Annabel was in hiding all the time. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. Can it ever be so good again?” Ann Veronica put out a firm hand and squeezed his arm. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth.
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