. Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. ” “Would you like to be a boy?” “I wonder! It’s out of the question, any way. Ennison looked down on him in disgust. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder.
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