"Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. It was at breakfast on this day that he told Ruth he had sent to Batavia for some dresses. She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests. It isn’t. Well might she do so, Gerald thought in irritation. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. “Very well,” said her father. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs.
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