He, next cautiously tried the door, but found it fastened inside. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Yes. “But Julian, we don’t even know each other!” She exclaimed. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle.
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