To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. ’ All at once Mrs Sindlesham looked across at him, a sharp question in her eyes. “My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?” “You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. She admitted her pleasure to Ramage. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. She had never seen her sitting on tables nor heard her discussing theology, and had failed to observe that the graceful figure was a natural one and not due to ably chosen stays.
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