‘She?’
‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon,
ma’am. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous
dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was
not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few
minutes gone. 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. Hawk and Buzzard. 137
The living conditions of her kills were often so sordid
that she would spend hours washing them off of her, and
August brought her to the Greene River once again,
scrubbing the stink from her hair with Ivory Liquid
Dishwashing Detergent. “I did,” Anna answered. "
The spinsters stared at her blankly.
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This video was uploaded to dantasticfood.net on 29-06-2024 18:55:46