To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire. “She thinks that Missy is trying to turn me into a punk or a Goth. Well, that’s the situation. But I am sick of tearing up letters and hopeless of getting what I have to say better said. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. ‘God loves you, even if your father didn’t. ” “But I’m quite equal to taking care of myself, aunt. "But clear the room of this rabble, if you have sufficient authority over them.
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