Spurlock discussed the affairs of the island and Ruth gave him in exchange her adventures with the native girl who was to be their servant. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow.
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