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Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands—one saw the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. A faint gleam of returning colour gave her at once a more natural appearance. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. “Let’s go outside. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. Sheppard now directed her steps. Walpole for your apprehension. He was perhaps forty-five years of age.
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