There it was—to be borrowed. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security.
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