Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat. A deadly sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round. Brendon was silent. It is so ridiculous. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer. “What I am after is that beauty isn’t a special inserted sort of thing; that’s my idea. ’ Gerald looked round. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. ‘We?’ Gerald smiled. "What's become of Ruth?" "Gone to her room. Earles was absolutely indifferent.
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