She laughed. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. He glanced up at the coachman. She would not forgive me. Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. You have made enough sacrifices for her surely without this. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. At other times, it would seem that the sea itself had gone away. This left Spurlock alone. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind.
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