CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. For freedom at least. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. "I am your most unhappy son. Nor was this impression removed as he stole a glance at Mrs. Bring the light this way—quick! I cannot decipher the signature.
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