“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. ’ ‘I am whatever you like,’ he agreed pleasantly, ‘but nothing is going to stop me from searching for this dagger. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. He was amused.
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