He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not. I know well that you are making a game with me. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. This is something above all rules. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. But they did what they could for her. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. But the sheer tenacity of the girl defeated him. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. It is absolutely a frightful neighbourhood, this. But he reckoned without his host. He would have to return to Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot on the Praya.
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