Spurling, you're a witness to the bet. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. Whatever happened she need never return to that possibility. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked. ’ ‘Yes, and leave you to break in on your own. He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. . She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. “But perhaps I want to confess them.
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