When I was younger, I was very sick with a deadly flu. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. You are one of the Immortals. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch. " "What's he know about copra and native talk?" "Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire. Wood, I desire you'll put on your best things, and join us as soon as possible.
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