” Anna stepped to the foot of the bed. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out. This heroine ruled an island which (in the '80s) was rich with shell—pearl-shell; and she fought pearl thievers and marauding beachcombers, fought them with weapons and with woman's guile.
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