I must tell you all about God’s land, this marvellous virgin country, with its silent forests and dazzling peaks. Plote was sleeping or deaf. ‘Difficult, I grant you. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so. The Dawn Pearl! To be with her constantly, with no diversions to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock for putting this thought in his head—that Ruth loved him! He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands digging into the sand: which was oddly like his problem—he could not grip it. Well, one must hope, that was all. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. And then as we went down you’d try to explain. “I must go. At any rate, I can see that you’re not protecting him at all.
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